God Knows Even Angels Fall
by disapprovalApparent
Summary: Finished with her tour, Brittany's back in the States with an obligation to fulfil. She isn't too sure how to go about it, or if she even wants to- Especially once she gets to know Santana. Warning: non-Brittana character death from 1st chapter
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note;; it's me again. Currently visiting with family and, horror of horrors, internet has been failing. So I started the process of another story, somewhat based on something my grandparents shared about their life. Hope you like, and really, my deepest apologies for popping up with new stories without completing my others. They will be, though. I just need variety.**

**Title inspired by Jessica Riddle's song 'Even Angels Fall'. I love this song.  
**

* * *

Amidst the sound of gunfire and flying clouds of dust, a young woman rocked back on her heels, disregarding that she was in a war zone and could be taken out at any minute- any second, really. Clammy fingers had still groped frantically for a pulse, any sign that her squad mate was still living; holding out on the hope that at any moment he would focus his gaze and shoot her one of his cocky grins before playfully grabbing her backside. But nothing. The man who had been a part of her unit- her life- for the past two years was dead, the blood already starting to congeal where moments before it had been pumping out of the side of his neck steadily. The woman hesitated to just leave his body there, but she had to get to cover. She had waited just a few more seconds, ever hopeful, before pulling from within his jacket a photograph, tucking it safely in her own pocket. Before hoisting her weapon and stumbling away, she clenched all of her fingers save for two in the middle, twisted her fist around and tapped it on her chest, kissed the fingers and touched it briefly to his lips. She didn't look back.

That had been barely two months ago.

Staring out of the truck that would bring her and others of her unit to a plane that would carry the lot of them home to the States, the woman fingered the edges of the photo, lost in her own thoughts. She was heading to Ohio, to meet people she hadnt met before. Worse, she was going to bethe carrier of horrible news. The others in the truck, people she had basically lived with for the better part of three years were talking amongst themselves, pondering of the idea of possibly re- upping in the future. For all that she liked these people- loved them, even-, the girl kept her mouth shut. There was no way she was reenlisting again. She had done her part and was ready to set aside firearms for the rest of her life.

Blank eyes stared at the picture in her hand, slender fingers running over its surface. She'd pretty much memorized it already, the faces of each person ingrained in her mind. He'd shown her the photo before, naming everyone and giving a little backstory for each. He was there too, arms draped over a blonde and a brunette, handsome face relaxed and thrown back in laughter. Nineteen years of age, he'd told her, when his friends from his highschool show choir had thrown him a party a couple weeks before he left for basic training. He'd gotten the picture in the mail, and treasured it like nothing else. Well. Except for the Star of David his mother and sister had given to him. She'd thought of taking that as well, but on the spur of the moment decided to leave it around his neck, next to his dogtag. On the back of the photograh, the words 'Don't Stop Believing' had been written in the middle, personalized memos scrawled around it.

"Noah, while I'm of the opinion that you're being hasty, I admire you greatly and hope you'll stay safe and return soon."- Rachel Berry, his fellow Jew.

"You'd best come home asap and in one piece, Puck. I love you enough to want you home already."- Quinn Fabray, the blonde in the picture. He had told her before, a wistful look in hazel eyes, that Quinn had been his babymama. They didn't keep the baby, but they still maintained a decent relationship.

"Brofist, man. I'm totally proud of you, and stuff."- Finn Hudson, his best friend since second grade, and not the most eloquent person around.

"Yeah, solidarity, represent!"- Mike Chang, who, according to Puck, was one of the sickest dancers ever.

The rest, Sam, Tina, Artie, Mercedes, Kurt, had basically the same message tone- 'Stay safe, yo'.

Her eyes kept flicking to the last one, scribbled just under 'Don't Stop Believing' as though there'd been no space and they just had to make do. It was different from the rest in the way that it was gruff, blunt, yet held an undertone of affection. Once more, the tip of her finger traced over the words "You better not die on me, Puckerman. -S."

Santana Lopez. He had oft spoken of her as one of his closest friends, one of the only girls he was willing to ignore the 'bros before hos' policy he usually abided by. They had had a thing in highschool, but then she'd started chasing skirts and that was that. He'd been disgruntled, sure, but they had been friends above all else, so what could he do but be a good lesbro? She had laughed at that, patted him on the shoulder, then jokingly offered to make out with him.

A few months later, they had gotten on the more serious topic of what they each would like to have done for them if they died. Puck's had been for her to travel to Lima and confirm news of his death- He'd mumbled something about not trusting the government. He also had written two letters, one for his family, one for the ex-glee clubbers. As he'd put it, it was "full of mushy shit I'd rather they not know I was capable of unless I was dead". So she'd retreived those from his bags and tucked them away in her own, making the decision to head to Lima. It wasn't as though she had anything else anywhere anyway, and besides, she would like to visit his grave, since she hadn't even been able to attend his funeral- leave had been denied, seeing as she had been going to leave the military in just a couple months.

Tracing over printed faces delicately, Brittany wondered how everything would play out. It wasn't as though she could march right in and start throwing Puckerman's name around.

}{}{}{

Stepping off the bus to take her first of many steps on Lima soil, Brittany bit her lip and glanced around, pale blue eyes squinting against the glare of streetlights. It was around nine at night, she had no idea of where the nearest place for bed and board was- She probably could have planned his out better. With a shrug, she picked out the most comfortable looking bench close by, spread out her sleeping bag then draped her long form over it. Her legs stuck out over the end, but it didn't matter. She was used to worse.

A homeless man (she assumed) glared at her balefully from his spot on the stairs of the town's library, letting loose a string of barks before turning away.

Brittany blinked, fingers searching instinctively for the pocketknife her father had given her more than a decade ago, only to remember with a pang that she'd lost it over at the Endless Desert. With a frown, she sat up straight and ran one hand through long blonde hair, combing out the knots from having it up in a tight bun all day, thinking hard all the while. Puck's voice, familiar and smooth with amusement, blew gently across one ear.

_"That homeless dude is called Patches. Harmless, really. He barks at everyone." _

Startled, she leaped off the bench, spinning around wildly. Baby blue eyes widened when she saw him, clear as anything, lounging on the seat she just vacated. His brows were pulled together and a smirk graced his clean shaven features as he gave her a salute.

Hesitantly, Brittany reached out with one hand, recoiling before her fingers could meet with his cheeks. "Are you not dead?"

_"Just gotta make sure you honor your promise, or whatever, babe. And I thought it'd be nice to see everyone again."_ Broad shoulders lifted in a shrug even as he gave her a cheeky wink and disappeared. Then reappeared.

_"Oh, Abrams, four-o-clock. Tell Artie I said hi, will you?"_ Then he- the ghost, or hallucination, or whatever- disappeared again.

Turning, Brittany saw a man in a wheelchair coming in her direction. Ahe recognized him immediately from the photograph.

"Hey there," He greeted her cheerfully enough for this time of night, "you need any help?" His gaze shifted to the sleeping bag spread out on the bench. "I can direct you to a hotel or something if you need somewhere to sleep tonight."

"Good evening." Brittany automatically raised her hand in a salute, "That'd be great, thank you." A pause, as she tried to figure out if she should introduce herself, or bring up Puck, or something. "I'm Brittany Pierce."

"Artie Abrams." Gesturing for her to follow, he patiently waited for her to pack up and fall into step with him. "If you don't mind my asking, what brings you to Lima, Brittany?"

"Seemed like a place I had to be," She answered after a few seconds, deciding to hold off on talking about Puck. That seemed too creepy, or so she thought. "Ah." He didn't pry further, but came to a stop, gesturing to a signpost that read "Destiny Inn, 1 mile'. Ironic.

"I'd accompany you there, but I really do have to go." His expression was genuinely apologetic, she could tell why Puck liked him enough. "I hope to see you around again, Brittany. If you plan on staying awhile, look me up sometime. I'm in the phonebook, and I work at the pharmacy. Good luck for whatever you have planned."

After thanking him, Brittany set off on the walk, thinking. She wasn't quite so startled this time around when Puck appeared beside her, a puzzled frown on his face.

_"Why'd you not mention me?"_

"You're dead," She replied automatically. "I don't want to be called crazy yet."

Looking at her strangely, he echoed, _"Yet."_ Then he grinned. _"I wonder..."_

She was about to ask, when his large hand came down and swatted her backside, hard enough to cause her to yelp. Brittany was left standing there on her own, rubbing her behind, the sound of his laughter fading in her ears.

* * *

**Continued Author's Note;; I'm long-winded, I know. Just wanted to add that I haven't come up with much of a strict storyline that I will adhere to for this piece of fiction, so all suggestions and/or criticisms are welcome. I'm open to anything at all.**

**Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note;; this was the first time in days where the internet worked. It sucks. Anyway, wanted to say that I replied to review questions at the end of the post so you all don't get a huge chunk of bolded text at the top, and somehow when I tried to get this onto the site, all my coding was messed up. Some italics are missing. Also, I'm going out of state for a family holiday, and wouldn't be back till the new year. Have a wonderful holiday, everyone!**

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Destiny inn wasn't like any inn that Brittany knew. It didn't seem like an inn at all- if she had to come up with a suitable label, she would have pegged it as a motel, a place where shady affairs and one night stands were held in with startling regularity. It was seedy, a little out-of-ways, but it was cheap and well within her budget. She paid in advance for two weeks, fully expecting to be out of Lima by then. If not, she figured she could always find a job and rent someplace better.

The man at the desk was young, possibly in his late teens, face pale and form gangly. He looked as though he hadn't had to go through a tiring, back-breaking day in his life, something that had the blonde's insides twisting strangely. She couldn't tell if it was envy or disgust, though she definitely felt the latter when he cocked his head to the side and blatantly swept his eyes from the soles of her sportshoes to the top of her head. If it didn't feel so wrong, she probably would have laughed it off and pointed out his age and overall unappealingness in her usual way. It wasn't to say that he was ugly, no. Just not her type, not by far.

Her room was simple, further driving in her mind that it was more motel than inn. The one relief was that she had was that she had her own personal bathroom, a luxury she had desperately craved ever since her plane had touched down on American soil. The bed was large, a little on the soft side, the pillows large but flat, offering no support whatsoever. She'd shrug internally, not expecting much. She would make do, as always. Perhaps request for more pillows. But for now, rest was the first thing on her priority list. Then perhaps tomorrow, she could start looking for Puck's friends.

}{}{}{

For an early summer day, Lima was cold, dreary, hanging on as tight as it could to the last remains of winter's spring. The sky was overcast, the air cool enough to warrant a long sleeved shirt, at least. For Brittany, accustomed to cold night desert temperatures as she was, donned just a t-shirt and well worn jeans before setting off, no particular plan in mind. All she knew was that she wanted to visit Puck's grave first, drop a flower or something on it, wish him a belated birthday. He would have turned twenty-three three weeks ago, the both of them the same age save for his being born earlier in the year than she. Twenty-four was his favourite number, he'd told her once with a crooked smile. He'd hoped to be able to celebrate his twenty-fourth birthday amongst friends, holding down a steady job and a steady girlfriend. Sex shark he'd been in his teenage years, being in the army, in a war, had caused even Noah Puckerman to mature and become a man.

But there was no-one of his childhood who would ever get to bear witness to that anymore. In that, Brittany supposed that she was lucky. For all that war was a fickle thing and despite the fact that nothing and no-one was around to hold her in one place any longer, she was still alive. If she hadn't been out of the Humvee and at a distance at that time, she would have blown up when the vehicle exploded. Puck had still been close enough to get hit by shrapnel, it was bad luck that it went through the front part of his neck.

Just bad luck.

Lost in thought, Brittany wandered into the first place she saw that was open and had a colourful display of floral arrangements on show. Once inside, her mind snapped back into focus as she took deep breaths, suddenly feeling perfectly content and happy. The scent of flowers always did make her feel like this, all mushy and boneless and filled with a naive kind of joy. The colours weren't too shabby, either.

She thought of getting a flytrap or some kind of creepy carnivorous plant for Puck's grave because he sort of reminded her of one, all (sexually) aggressive and just that little bit scary. Roses just didn't suit him, nor did tulips or sunflowers or any other kind of "wussy chick flowers". Just to amuse herself, she briefly entertained the idea of sunflowers- they were yellow and bright and just spewed happiness-, but in the end settled for a sprig of lavender, which the florist gave to her free of charge, eyebrow rising. Probably in question of her sanity, but Brittany ignored it. She'd gotten many of those looks before, and learned to just let things flow off without too much question- which was what made her a good enough soldier.

Eyebrows rising even further and tweaking slightly, the florist directed her to the cemetery, a pointed and confused look directed at the little sprig of lavender Brittany had weaved into the braid handing by the side of her face. She'd pondered cutting her hair short before, but ultimately decided that she had enough vanity to want to keep it long. She looked good with it, anyway.

Brittany liked cemeteries. They were quiet, smooth headstones rising from the dirt to preserve what little of the history of one's life that could fit. Plus, some of them had really nice quotes. Some were cliche, sure, and others seemed obligatory, but most always seemed heartfelt. Grief, anger, betrayal, crippling sadness or any array of emotions could be scribed on smooth stone to remain for however long eternity lasted, a little portrayal of what death meant to those close to the deceased.

Puck's was easy enough to find- His stone was the newest looking, not yet beaten by weather and nature. Plus, he was sitting on it, legs swinging idly as he looked down (sadly, Brittany thought) at a brunette girl sitting on her legs before it. Tanned fingers were dragged along the grooves of the words on his stone, the woman staying completely silent even as she rocked back, biting down on one fist. When Puck caught sight of Brittany, he raised one arm in a wave, gaze turning back to the other woman before he mouthed, _"Santana."_

The blonde was torn. Puck probably expected her to introduce herself, bond over the shared grief of his death (smug, cocky bastard), give her the letters and photograph, then leave. That was also possibly her best bet. But what she ended up doing was far from what was probably best.

"Hey." So as not to completely startle the brunette, she scruffed her shoes against the ground, creating enough noise. Santana's head snapped around, but she didn't make a move to get up. However, she did rub a hand against her eyes before focusing her gaze on Brittany once more.

"Uh," was her quiet return. Brittany decided to ignore the slight red- rimmed eyes, choosing to just vaguely ask:

"You okay?"

An incredulous look was passed her direction, deep brown eyes widening and hands twitching as though Santana was fighting hard to not deck Brittany square in the nose.

"Oh sure, just terrific." Now she did stand, drawing up to her full height and crossing her arms. "I don't mean to be a bitch-" She totally did, Brittany could tell, "- but didn't anyone ever tell you not to get all into someone's face at a graveyard?" At Brittany's blank stare, Santana sighed but didn't retract it, leaving the curtness of her question hanging between them in the silence.

"You're rude," The blonde decided, a small frown gracing her features. She steadfastly ignored Puck, who was now facepalming repeatedly. "I just asked if you were okay."

"I'm sitting at a grave, and a random chick asks me if I'm okay. Fucking genius," Santana murmured mostly to herself, although she did uncross her arms to shove her hands into pockets. "I'm fine. Just, visiting." Her head cocked to the side towards Puck, tears welling in her eyes once more.

Brittany watched as Puck's face fell, as he reached out to grasp Santana's shoulder reassuringly. She bore witness to his frustration when his hand passed through her, the grief and overwhelming sadness at not being able to comfort his best friend.

_"Give her a hug,"_ He suddenly demanded, turning to the blonde. _"Damnit, hug her for me. I can't, so you have to." _When Brittany shook her head slightly in refusal- it'd be plain creepy and a tad frightening for Santana, wouldn't it?-, he damn near snarled, _"Fuck that, comfort her!"_

Hands pushed violently at her back, causing her to lurch forward and fling her arms around the darker girl to maintain her balance.

"The hell are you doing?" Santana demanded, shoving the taller woman away. Damnit, she was starting to feel like a fucking ragdoll. And now, thanks to Puck, she had some serious explaining to do.

"I wanted to give you a hug," Brittany drew her shoulders up in a shrug, "You looked like peanut butter without jelly."

When the Latina gaped at her, she shrugged, taking the lavander and holding it out to the other girl. "Take it," She insisted when it seemed that Santana was just going to keep staring. "Don't be sad. They never like seeing us cry." Brittany couldn't know if this applied to every dead person, but Puck looked plenty sad before, so she figured that it worked out. To further cement it in, she would tuck the flowers into the girl's shirt pocket, before giving her a small smile and starting to walk away, Puck's shouts of bewilderment ignored. After that little stunt, all bets were off.

At least for the day, anyway.

A feminine call, very unlike Puck's deep voice, caused her to turn. Santana jogged towards her- not flat out running, but a steady dignified jog-, hands still shoved in the pockets of her hoodie. Puck loped along beside the darker woman, his face a mask of confusion.

_"You had a perfect opportunity, why'd you just leave?"_ He demanded, growing visibly more agitated when Brittany ignored him, choosing instead to focus her attention on the other girl who had pulled to a complete stop a couple of feet away.

"About earlier..." Converse sneakers kicked warily at a blade of grass. "You caught me at a bad time. Do-over?" There was probably an apology laced in there somewhere, and Puck had given an exasperated sigh before disappearing, so Brittany warily stuck out a hand.

"Brittany Pierce. You okay now?"

The Latina blinked, taking the proffered hand firmly. "Santana Lopez, and yeah, I'm fine. Like I said, just visiting. You?"

"I like cemeteries," The blonde replied, automatically vague- Well, shit. She was practically digging her own grave. "They're quiet."

"Right..." Santana hesitated now, pulling her hand away to stuff deep into her pocket once more. "Haven't seen you around before."

"Just got in last night. First day in Lima," Brittany returned cheerfully enough.

Another pause, before Santana asked, "Wanna get a coffee?" One hand rose to scrub blearily at her eyes, brows furrowing. "I was gonna go get one anyway- You can join me if you want. It's too early for me to function without caffeine and I swear, I'm better once I've had coffee." That last sentence was grumbled out, and Brittany sneaked a peek at her watch. Nine was kind of early for someone trying to enjoy their summer vacation, she reasoned. For her, such luxury was over years ago.

"Sure." Brittany shrugged. "I'm free as the birds I used to keep in my locker." She could tell that Santana was utterly bewildered by her, but that was fine. Everyone was, at first. But to make her feel more comfortable, she changed the subject. "Are you an out-of-towner too?"

"No, I've lived here all my life. But I'm in college now- Just back for the summer vaca- What are you doing?"

Confused, Brittany looked down to her arm, then to Santana. "Offering you my arm..." Slowly, she drew it back. "Isn't that the polite thing to do?"

"Yeah, like back two hundred years ago." Brittany couldn't tell if Santana's snort was one of amusement or derision, but she flushed anyway, pushing hands into pockets. So far, she didn't really like this girl all that much.

}{}{}{

They ended up at a small starbucks, something Brittany marveled openly at. She even grabbed at Santana's arm in excitement, pointing out just how little the coffee chain had changed over the years. The brunette had obviously stiffened, extracting herself from the blonde's hold soon after with a sneering "Where are you from, to be this excited about a Starbucks? Mars?" Brittany's quiet "In a manner of speaking" had her shutting up, though.

Brittany had never been one for coffee, preferring tea instead. She already had a cup this morning, though, so she declined getting anything, just sat down silently across from the fidgeting Santana.

"If you weren't getting anything, why'd you accept my offer to grab a coffee?" She finally asked, when it didn't seem like the blonde was inclined to say anything at all, seeming more interested in staring at Santana with those piercing blue eyes.

"You said do-over. I couldn't say no." Brittany propped her head on her hands, elbows digging into the tabletop as she leaned forward just a little. "You spoke of College- You're home to visit your parents?"

"I was at a g- Are you implying that my parents are dead?" Santana all but snapped out.

Brittany blinked. Geez, this girl sure was touchy. "I meant in general, I wasn't assuming. It makes people mad." And not assuming had made Santana mad. There was just no way to win.

"Oh." She at least had the decency to flush slightly. "Right. Sorry," The Latina muttered, before inhaling a gulp of coffee, causing her to splutter a little, leaving Brittany watching on in amusement.

"Apologizing isn't your thing," She announced once Santana had gotten everything under control again, "I can tell."

"Yeah, well, I don't usually feel the need to apologize." Brittany's smile widened. "...what?"

"It's sweet, you feeling the need to say sorry to me."

Santana found herself nodding along, not really absorbing the words, just listening to Brittany's voice. She hummed in agreement before suddenly going silent, then:

"Wait what?"

Brittany giggled.

}{}{}{

The next few hours passed by with Brittany enjoying herself, sometimes at the expense of Santana. The darker girl, true to he word, had lightened up considerably once she had downed two cups of caffeine. She was more forthcoming, less rude and caustic, even bordering on playful friendliness. She'd shared that she was in her last year of medical school, following in her dad's footsteps. She was currently home for at least half of the summer, bumming around, working on her thesis, annoying the crap out of her mother by constantly popping up underfoot. Her mother had tried to get her to help out around the house but after Santana caused a short-circuit, changed her mind. Now at every opportunity Santana was booted to the curb, as though her being unsupervised at home would instantly mean the house exploding. The Latina laughed at that, and proceeded to inform Brittany that at the age of six, she had tried to light a scented candle but instead ended up setting all their bath towels on fire.

The blonde had almost forgotten what it felt like to be in the company of another girl- It wasn't to say that she had been the only female in her unit, it was just that the amount of men were far superior, and after a while, the girls could get just as loud and abrasive as the guys. Santana could swear just as well as any guy, Brittany realized, but she lacked something that most others in the army had. Not muscles or fitness- Brittany had been treated a look at Santana's toned length when the other girl removed her jacket-, but the proud arrogance and sometimes condescending look that army people were capable of. She lacked the twitchiness of a veteran who had had a brush with death firsthand, and she didn't have the expression that told the world that she had been in a war, something that even Brittany had, at times.

No, Santana was a welcome change from the sort of people she had been mingling with for the past few years. Despite her potty mouth and arm muscles that could rival Brittany's own, she was softly feminine and, in some ways, endearingly child-like.

They had ended up at a park, and before Brittany could excitedly point at swings, Santana had dumped her jacket on the ground and took off running for the slide, pushing a child out of her way as she called back, "Race ya!"

Not so great for the kid, who looked completely dazed, but Brittany loved this side of Santana. Sure, it could be written off to caffeine overload, but the blonde preferred to think that the girl actually enjoyed her company as well, enough to let down her guard and behave like a kid. It must have looked weird to the single family at the playground, who had front row seats to Santana scrambling up the length of the slide while Brittany monkey'ed up the side of it. The shoving match that came next must have been even weirder, for the family departed rather quickly when it started.

Santana's fingers digging into Brittany's sides startled the blonde, who jerked and fell off the side, the Latina toppling off after her. There was no injury, since the slide was barely six feet high (further insinuation that this was a children's playground), but Brittany found herself suddenly devoid of air in her lungs when Santana squashed her flat.

The two just lay on the ground giggling away madly, with Santana huffing out a few "omigod"s and some "are you okay"s as well as a couple of "are you sure"s.

After a few minutes, they agreed that perhaps they should stick to the swings.

* * *

**Continued Author's Note;;**

**flatliner15:** **I'm trying to keep this Brittany as similar as I can, but I figured that being in the army would smarten her up some. Also, I've never really thought of her as stupid, perhaps a little shortsighted/deaf, not having a brain-mouth filter in the way that she just thinks aloud. **

**spectatoroftheshow: PTSD, most probably. It'd probably be covered later in the story, though!**

**/\/\/\**

**I guess I forgot to put in my summary that this is an Alternate Universe story and that one of Glee's main characters is dead from the get-go. This is totally my bad; I'm terrible at those summary things. Sorry!**

**As always, thank you for reading, and place all ideas in hat in form of reviews or messages. Thank you and have a brilliant holiday, everyone!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes;; Hey all! Hope you've all had a marvellous holiday! **

**Okay, so I've two main ideas as to the story's progression- I just need a question answered first. Sort of like a choose-your- adventure, so this chapter is mostly a short filler. Would you prefer Brittany informing Santana that she knew Puck ASAP [in the next chapter or so] and passing on the letters that way, or would you all prefer Brittany finding some other (sneaky) way of getting the letters to the Puckermans and Glee Club without telling anyone (at first) that she served beside Puck? Like I said, I've the ideas- I just don't know which one to go with. Vote away in form of reviews or messages- other suggestions/criticisms are totally welcome!**

**Ps, if you've opinions on pairings for the other glee members, go right ahead and share them.**

* * *

Brittany thoroughly enjoyed her first day in Lima.

After their frolic at the playground, the girls had gotten lunch together, too caught up in having unbridled fun to want to split. Santana had impressed Brittany when she had leaped off the swings, doing a somersault in midair before landing somewhat gracefully on her feet. She hadn't dared try, though she did execute a roll that had the Latina asking if she had ever taken any form of martial arts. Then they had progressed into teaching each other how to perform moves they themselves knew- Brittany emerged from that experience able to do a decent cartwheel, and well on the way to mastering a front handspring. She had cracked an instinctive grin when Santana revealed that she used to be a cheerleader, though her smile faltered at first since she had already been aware of that fact. It got difficult, the internal debate she had with herself about how to proceed with Puck's wish.

They had separated shortly before dinner, with Santana giving her an apologetic smile and the excuse that she had to head home to dine with her family, as well as work on her thesis. They did, however, make plans to meet up the next day so that Santana could show Brittany around the town. The Latina had whipped out her phone then, facing Brittany with a clear look of expectation that morphed into curiosity and bewilderment when the blonde shook her head, informing the other that she didn't have a phone. Instead of laughing or being derisive as she probably would have been back at the graveyard, Santana merely dragged Brittany by the arm to the nearest electronics shop, after which the two emerged with a brand new (inexpensive) phone for Brittany.

"You gotta enter the twenty-first century sometime," was what Santana had told Brittany seriously. "I don't know how to do smoke signals or telegraphs, so you've got to upgrade. Besides, life is much easier when you've got a phone. And look! You now have a contact- Me."

"I usually prefer sending letters," Brittany had replied almost wistfully, "there's something amazing about waking up to find that someone took time off their lives to write back." But, she had to admit that a phone would be handy. There was just that little problem of figuring out how it worked...

}{}{}{

With tentatively confirmed plans to meet up the next day, Brittany headed back to the inn, stopping briefly at a supermarket to pick up a few groceries. An hour later she could be seen holding her new device up to her face in utter confusion, bags hoisted up easily in one hand. About twenty minutes ago, the phone had shrilled rather loudly, startling the blonde into knocking down a display of canned peas. After paying and running out of the store to escape the death glares, Brittany tried to work the phone, with little to no success. The screen seemed to be mocking her, informing her (arrogantly) that she had one new message from Santana Lopez, yet when she tried to access it, switched to tell her that it was locked. The stupid thing hadn't come with an instruction manual, so the blonde was left staring helplessly at the locked device, unable to read the text that Santana had sent.

To make things worse, Puck was the first thing she saw after she managed to wrestle her door open. He lay stretched out on her bed, not unlike when he used to prop his booted feet up on her bunk back when they were serving together. He always did have his habit of not removing his shoes- Even now in death, his well-worn combat boots were up on her covers, twitching disinterestedly once in a while. Hazel eyes were narrowed on her- Piercing, appraising, and perhaps even a little bit accusing.

It was the last emotion that had her spine snapping stiff, blue gaze defiant. The stare-off lasted till he caved first.

_"What was that all about?"_ When she didn't reply, Puck ran one hand over his face, surging to his feet to stand toe-to-toe with her_. "When your commanding officer asks you a question, private, you are expected to answer." _His voice had dropped low, warning and desperation laced in-between. He'd never been one for patience when he wanted a question answered.

Her instinctive reaction to the command was to stand at attention, but  
once her brain caught up she relaxed, throwing herself onto the bed to stare at the ceiling.

"Come off it, Noah." Brittany's voice was laced with amusement. "It's the first day. I didn't want to jack up the creepy."

_"San could have handled it,"_ Puck insisted, though he did plop his ass back down on the bed, hands playing with the ends of her jeans absently_, "could have taken it like a man. Then you would be free to go off and see the world, like you want."_

"I like Lima," Brittany mused, "and I like Santana. She's like a hedgehog- like that one Jerry put in your bunk, remember?"

_"That stupid sonofa- hang on. I thought it was Phillip? That bastard, why am I only finding out about it now?"_ Puck's griping and complaining got her to grin, snuggling deeper into her pillows_. "Wait. This is so not the point! Just get the letters to my mom and sis and the glee club as soon as you can, okay?"  
_  
"Aye aye sir." Lazily, the blonde stretched before turning on her side, once again prodding at her phone. "I'm meeting Santana tomorrow- if there's a good operafinity, I'll pass them to her."

_"Opportunity, Britt."_ He corrected almost absently,_ "And okay." _Companionable silence stretched between the two of them, Puck laying down next to Brittany, and running his fingers over his short hair. The army had shaved off his mohawk, and over the years, he had adopted a crew cut. Being bald cramped his style- his words.

_"...what did you mean San's like a hedgehog?"_

}{}{}{

Puck disappeared soon after that, though not before teaching Brittany how to work her phone- _"just slide it open then press these couple of buttons"_-, leaving the blonde to read her first text message ever.

**Hey.**

It was rather anticlimactic, but Brittany grinned cheerfully at the device anyway. This simple three-word message marked the beginning of a new life for her, she felt. From now on, she'd actually have the time to find people to communicate with steadily instead of moping around places while on leave and turning away friendly people. Now, Brittany realized, she was free to pursue relationships- lasting ones. She'd never again have to leave after two or three weeks for a year or two at a time- Something that wasn't conducive for a relationship in the slightest. She'd found that out for herself, firsthand, and had also heard the stories.

It wasn't to say that she fully expected Santana to be someone she could talk with for the rest of her life- Brittany didn't really think at this point in time, that they would keep in contact once she left Lima-, but she did fully expect that Santana was just one of the first of many who would mark her new life.

_Hi back,_ she typed slowly, painstakingly, making sure there were no mistakes. It was slow going, but she got there. She just couldn't figure out the punctuation and numbers.

A few minutes later, her phone shrilled again. **Grats, you managed to work it. I thought you didn't reply cos you didn't know how to text.  
**  
_No my phone is mean it locked me out_

Dinner forgotten, she spent the next couple of hours sending texts lacking any kind of punctuation, sometimes even laughing out loud. Santana turned out to be a chatty texter, cheerfully complaining that her mami was adamant on her helping with the cooking- Something that she didn't enjoy in the slightest. It would be a miracle, the girl had joked, if she ended up not accidentally poisoning anyone who ate her cooking.

The texts they exchanged stayed light and mostly inconsequential, nothing deeper than 'if the world is overrun with zombies what would you do'. Santana seemed to shy away from asking anything more personal, and Brittany wouldn't answer anyway- Not yet, at least. If she felt something was probing just a little too much, she turned it away with responses like _'that's for me to know and you to find out'_ and '_wait and see_'. They had found out nothing about each other's pasts or futures, keeping things to present day and light banter.

One didn't just bare their soul to people they just met- It didn't matter what the stories said, Brittany still felt it was like taking a lift from a stranger, or having sex with sleazy people. Or having unprotected sex and _praying_ that nothing bad happened. Life didn't work that way.

}{}{}{

Morning came and found Brittany making animal shapes out of pieces of bread- Mostly things shaped like loch-ness monsters before sending each one sailing out of her window. She and Santana had plans to meet at the library before heading to lunch, so that meant that she had to eat breakfast and make up for her skipped dinner the night before. Surprisingly, she had crashed out around eight in the evening, sleeping for a solid eleven hours before the chirping of birds _directly outside her window_ had woken her up. Which would explain why she was throwing bread out of her window. If they were busy eating, they obviously couldn't make annoying chirpy noises, right?

Right.

Once that was done, Brittany flopped back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh. Birds aside, she'd been worrying about what to do with the letters and photograph. The best idea would have been her risking Santana thinking her a creep and immediately handing them off like yesterday, but since that didn't happen, she had just a few choices.

One, she could just pass them to Santana today and come up with an excuse as to why she hadn't given them to her yesterday, and tell her all about Puck's and her time together overseas. Time that she really, really didn't want to relive, whether in story or dreams. Or ghosts.

Two, she could find out where the Puckermans lived, and slide them under the door or slot it into their mailbox, then leave Lima without mentioning anything to Santana.

Three, she could do the mailbox thing, and just keep up with what she was currently doing now- Stay on the road to befriending Santana without letting anything personal slip.

Basically, lie. No matter in what degree, all three options required her to lie. There were probably more ways to deal with this problem, but Brittany couldn't think of any right now. And she was a _terrible_ liar. She could be vague, all mysterious smoke and mirrors, but outright lying...

Not such a good idea.

* * *

**Continued Author's Note;; please share all opinions, thanks!**

**\/\/\/**

**Edited Author's Note;; well. I'm such a n00b I didn't realize my comments were cut.**

**miknge: haha, usually I'd think of Santana and Puck being 'bros', but when thinking about writing this story, I tried to entertain the thought of perhaps letting Brittany and Puck share a bit of a history- It gave me more freedom too, as you say, they hardly interact on the show (except for that one "omg ur so cool when ur a douche" time...bleh). As for Puck's backstory, sure- I'm already planning out little paragraph flashbacks by both Brittany and Santana about Puck. (: To be frank, I loved your review (it was like a paragraph of input and made me squee just a little), and all I can say is, you _flatterer_. Thanks for the praise and for reading!**

**AThousandTimesMore: yeah, I know what you mean about not really pegging Britt as one to join the army- I was initially going to write it as Santana heading off for the wars, but changed my mind just before I actually started writing. As for Puck, the way I picture it is that Brittany would at first be all ecstatic that he's around, but after time progresses he's going to be like her own pop-up book from hell- An annoyance, so to speak. I laugh a little to myself when I think of Brittana enjoying a moment, then he pops up all "derp". Which would probably happen later on in the story, since I like amusing myself when I write. Thank you for your review!**

**Thank you _everyone_ for reading!  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note;; gah! I just realized that the author's note for chapter three was cut- I must have done something to it accidentally and removed comments to reviewers for the previous chapter. ...noob. Anyway, I went back and edited the comments in again at the bottom of the fic. Sorry guys, wasn't ignoring you at all.**

**So many different opinions! I do hope what I came up with was fine for now. Thanks everyone for reading/reviewing/anything and, as always, comments to the previous chapter's reviewers are at the bottom.**

**I still haven't introduced more Glee Clubbers, so pairings are still up for discussion.**

**Also, if you've suggestions for what questions Brittany and Santana could ask each other, please suggest them in form of a review or message, and I'll try to have them answer them in the next chapter.  
**

**

* * *

**

Lima, as Brittany found out, wasn't all that small. Destiny Inn wasn't even at the town's outer fringes, as she had thought- No, it was actually considered to be pretty near the town's central. And, Lima in the middle of the day was very, _very_ different from Lima in the early morning. Everyone seemed to be out and about, enjoying the summer's day (it actually felt like summer today, so Britt set out dressed in a tanktop and shorts), and not a whole lot of people gave her a second look when she passed them on the sidewalk. ...well. Not that she noticed, anyway.

Point is, Brittany got a little lost. She was supposed to meet Santana at the library, but she just couldn't find it. She'd gone down this street then crossed onto that and passed the florist from the day before, found a signboard that wasn't even remotely helpful (she didn't care where all those roads where, _damn it_), was bewildered when several people who she asked help from just hurried away without a backwards glance, before blundering into a squat-looking man who pointed her in the right direction. By this time, it was a quarter past twelve, meaning that she was fifteen minutes late. Punctuality had been drilled into her head thanks to being in the army, so by the time she hurried up the steps of the library, she was more than a little flustered and dishevelled.

A sight that Santana found amusing, if that little smirk adorning her face was anything to go by. The darker girl was leaning against the side of the building, long slender legs idly crossed.

"Hi," She drawled, the smile still firmly in place. "You're late. I was beginning to think you stood me up- Especially since you didn't pick up."

"Huh?" Confused, Brittany squinted, apology lost. She _knew_ that she was late and had been set to apologize, but Santana's last sentence threw her off completely. "Was I supposed to pick you up?"

Santana's grin widened a little, though Brittany couldn't yet figure out why. "You can pick me up anyway you want to, darlin'," She teased, tacking on an exaggerated Southern accent. "I meant your phone- I called but you didn't answer."

"Oh?" A pause. "Oh!" Flushing a little more, Brittany patted her pockets, pulling out items and juggling them rather clumsily as she searched for the device. She came up empty, though she did manage to find a handful of change, a couple twenty dollar bills and her room key. "...I don't have it."

While she'd been searching, Santana had done some looking (read: admiring) of her own- An act she was caught in when the blonde looked back up, a little put out that she'd (probably...hopefully!) left her phone back at the inn. Brittany smiled a little- She knew when someone was checking her out and, to be honest, her own gaze had been fixed upon Santana's legs the whole time she'd been rushing up the steps-, and gave a little twirl.

"Like what you see?"

"Like what _you_ see?" Santana countered, though her tanned cheeks did turn just that little bit darker.

"Yep," was her cheerful reply before Brittany offered her arm, grin widening when Santana actually took it this time. "Food?"

}{}{}{

They had lunch at a small cafe since Santana was "_craving a cheeseburger and fries and vanilla ice cream"_, as she'd so gleefully told the blonde. When Brittany stared, Santana had said that she had better not be a vegetarian or their friendship was over. The taller girl had managed to shut her gaping mouth and reply that no, she definitely couldn't survive eating just vegetables, an adorable wrinkle to her nose as she did. She could enjoy salad and the like as much as the next person, but, like any appreciative BBQ-er, she _loved_ her steak.

To Brittany's great amusement, Santana ate as though every bite was her last. Hums of appreciation were periodically released, she refused to talk while eating, eyes fluttering shut as she chewed. She looked, to put it crudely, as though she were having little mouth orgasms- Something that Brittany pointed out with a giggle after the last bit of cheeseburger had been duly chewed and swallowed. Another thing that Brittany found out? A blushing Santana was an _adorable_ Santana. It wasn't really her fault that she couldn't resist leaning over and pinching a reddened cheek lightly.

Then everything was repeated all over again with the ice cream. Brittany could tell that Santana had tried to contain herself, but she had to admit that the ice cream was _so good_- She could totally understand the almost-inaudible moans that the Latina was letting out.

"Shut up, I don't get to eat here often, and they make _delicious_ food."

}{}{}{

It was about an hour in when Santana seemed to get edgy, hands twisting on her lap, fists clenching and unclenching. When Brittany noticed and asked what was up, Santana had fixed an uncertain gaze upon her, hesitating a little before asking, "Would it be alright if we dropped by the cem- somewhere before I show you around? I just need to do something first."

Brittany had regarded her a little warily, before she nodded and offered her arm again.

Which was how she found herself at the same florist as the day before, watching Santana purchase a bouquet of white lilies, and listening to her explanation of why lilies. Apparently 'the guy whose grave (she) was at yesterday' had given her a lily after the first time they'd slept together- A fact that had Brittany squirming a little. What could she reply to that? Besides, wasn't it just... a little too personal, a little too much information for someone you'd just met the day before? But, she managed a nod, a slight upturn of the corners of her mouth. Just as they were walking out, she laid a hand on Santana's lightly, pulling her to a stop before she headed back in to emerge with a bunch of yellow daisies. Then it was the shorter woman's turn to stare but not comment, instead holding out her hand and taking Brittany's arm almost absently, her gaze flicking to the yellow flowers now and again.

They walked to the cemetery in silence, and when Santana asked for a moment, Brittany stood back a few feet, solemnly watching as Santana laid the lilies by the headstone almost tenderly. Puck wasn't there this time, so the girl could focus her full attention on the other, blue eyes narrowing when the shoulders in front of her quivered slightly, when a shuddering sigh reached her ears. Despite her giving respectful distance, she couldn't help but overhear Santana's soft voice laced with apology.

"Sorry for just running out yesterday," She'd whispered, fingers running over _Noah Ethan Puckerman_ over and over. It was surreal; the first Brittany knew of Noah's middle name was by his grave, "and for not visiting more." There was a long moment of silence before a breathy "I hope it was worth it" was exhaled, and a second more before Santana stood again, her hand swiping at fresh tears blurring her vision. Brittany could hear Puck's voice in her head, contrite and a little panicked:

"_Okay, maybe she _can't_ take it like a man."_

Moving forward, Brittany draped one arm hesitantly over Santana's waist, and when the other girl didn't flinch away, tugged her closer to engulf her in a tighter hug. She would have wrapped both arms around Santana, but she was still holding the daisies, which she now held up to Santana's face. After the Latina took them, eyes crooked in puzzlement, Brittany squeezed her closer, levelling her mouth to an ear.

"I got them for you because you seemed so sad here yesterday."

Of everything that could have happened, Brittany did _not_ expect Santana to actually burst out into audible sobs and bury her face into the material of the blonde's tank top. From what she could make of it, apparently Puck used to show up at her doorstep when life got fucking frustrating- Cheerleading, bitchy backstabbing friends, insane coach- with daisies, alcohol and Call of Duty. A quick glance to the right confirmed that Puck was back and sitting on his headstone once more, a sheepish expression on his features.

"_So I'm a sap,"_ He shrugged, _"sue me."_ Brittany couldn't reply- Santana would think she was crazy!-, but she did think that perhaps now wasn't the best time to confess to Santana that she had known Puck too, that she had served alongside him and watched him die. The man in question raised broad shoulders once more, nodding as he agreed, "_Yeah, probably not."_ Then he disappeared.

Santana's sobs had lessened considerably by then, enough for Brittany to draw back slightly and bend down to try and look at the other's face. She tugged gently, letting the girl reside under her arm, tucked snugly to her side as they walked. Brittany didn't really pay attention to where they were going, but as luck had it, the two ended up at the park once again. They didn't head for the playground this time, Brittany dropping down onto the grass and leaning with her back against a tree, Santana settling between her legs, back to Brittany's front. They stayed like that for minutes, quietly watching children shriek with enthusiasm as they ran around playing whimsical games.

Brittany is the first to break the silence.

"I don't like seeing you sad." Her words are soft, meant just for Santana, who turned slightly in her loose hold. "He wouldn't like seeing you sad, either."

'I'm sorry."

Behind her, Santana could feel the blonde lift her shoulders in a shrug. "Everyone has to cry once in a while."

"I guess."

"I'm sorry," Brittany murmured, before silence overtook them once again. Santana leaned back a little, letting out a sigh as she relaxed, her body moulding to fit the taller woman's.

"Tell me about you?" Santana's request is soft, politely phrased as a question, but Brittany could tell that she really wanted to know, to have a bit of detail. She hesitated though, taking time to formulate a reply. Even though right now was the perfect timing for any multitude of things- talking of the army, Puck, the letters and photographs and ghosts, maybe something more personal and intimate-, Brittany didn't really want to talk about her past, or even her future. She just knew that she was here, right now, holding a Santana that had even Puck doing a double take, and her skin was smooth and her face _right there_. Brittany had never really been good with verbal comfort- Physical she could give, which was why she hadn't let go of Santana since they left the cemetery. Not that she actually wanted to let go. It'd been too long since she had had this kind of physical contact with someone, and she was loath to give it up.

"I was in the army," Brittany finally said, "just finished my tour." She fell silent yet again, struggling to put feelings and confessions to words, to share what she _should_- what she had an _obligation_ to. Instead, what came out was "I saw... I see- ...so much."

Santana turned further so brown eyes could meet blue, and asked with startling clarity and perspective, "Do you even want to talk about it?"

"No," Brittany admitted, "not now. I have to, but I don't want to, now." Or perhaps she _can't_, not yet. But she _will_. Just not today.

Santana nodded, interlacing her fingers with Brittany's. "When...or if you ever want to," She told the blonde, voice laced with so much gentleness and _compassion_ that Brittany couldn't look away, "I'm here."

Was this real life? Brittany couldn't help but wonder- Life wasn't like this. Not normally, at least. Strangers were strangers, they didn't offer a willing ear just like that. Though Santana wasn't exactly a stranger- Not anymore. Maybe.

"You too." Oddly compelled, Brittany dipped her head a little lower, rested her chin on Santana's shoulder and pressed her cheek to the Latina's tanned neck. "Thank you," She murmured, noting the little quiver that rippled across Santana's body when Brittany's hot breath blew over the side of her face. Her arms tightened across Santana's middle, the two of them just watching the children play.

To be a child again- Swamped in naivety and endless days of rollercoaster emotions that was so easily forgotten. Everything was so easy, then.

"Perhaps we should start with something easier- Twenty questions?"

* * *

**Continued Author's Note;; again, if you've suggestions as to what questions they could ask each other, please do share and I'll try to get to most of them in the next chapter. comments, crits, what-say-you always welcome! Thank you everyone who reviewed and gave input on the last chapter- much appreciated. (:**

**Gleefan13: ****haha, hey. Your review made me grin- I liked it heaps. I'm hoping this chapter's content/progress made up for its shortness, and that it lives up to expectations!**

**Miknge:**** hi again! My thoughts of Brittany being sneaky isn't that she's ashamed of being in the army- More of that she doesn't want to talk about it. Not yet. It isn't a big secret, as you put it, but the experience I have is that soldiers (especially those who have partook in a war) tend to be bombarded with questions and opinions, and Britt isn't ready for that just yet. She will be in later chapters, but for now, she just doesn't want to relive her experiences. That's all.**


	5. Chapter 5

_"Perhaps we should start with something easier- Twenty questions?"_

Blinking a couple of times, Santana studied Brittany's expression- a little guarded and apprehensive but very, very genuine-, trying to figure if she was joking or not. Judging by the lack of mirth, no, Brittany had not been kidding. Again, which century was this girl from, that twenty questions was still a legitimate way to pass the time?

Just as she was about to blurt that out, her brain-to-mouth filter kicked in, causing Santana to tilt her head and admit, "I've not played that since junior high." Pondering upon it for a bit, she finally decided to just go for broke. They lacked alcohol for a decent round of 'I never', and she was comfortable enough in Brittany's light embrace that she didn't really want to move right now.

"You're just going to have to remind me of how it goes, then."

Brittany beamed back at her, shoulders bouncing up and down lightly in a mixture of excitement and gratitude.

"It's really simple! We're allowed twenty questions. Anything goes, but if you don't want to answer a question, nix it." In truth, she hadn't played a game where just refusing to answer a question was allowed, but she just figured to cover her bases first, just in case. Usually she wouldn't have thought to do so, but with their previous 'talk' beforehand, it stood out rather clearly in her mind.

"Alright, sounds simple enough. Me first?" Shifting again so that her back was propped easily against Brittany's front and she was facing the playground, Santana felt the girl nod. "Okay. Favourite colour?"

"Orange. Or maybe purple... I haven't thought of this in a long time." There was a pause as she thought of her own question, before settling on: "You were a cheerleader, yeah? What was it like?"

"Is that two questions?" Santana huffed out a laugh when Brittany poked her in the side, squirming a little. "Okay, okay. It was...alright. I liked cheering well enough, but I mainly did it for the status. I used to think that being popular in high school was everything."

"What changed?" Brittany inquired, genuinely curious. She hadn't even given a thought to joining her own high school's cheerleading team- It just hadn't appealed to her.

Santana shrugged. "I grew up. Getting kicked down the social ladder several times because of...different things sucked, but I had Glee Club. And, the squad needed me to take Nationals, so my place was safe. I did get demoted down the pyramid, though." Half of what she was saying confused the blonde, but she let it go. The main point for her (right now, at least), was just to listen to the Latina speak. Brittany really liked her voice.

"Siblings?"

"Older brother." Brittany didn't elaborate more than that. "You?"

"Only child. Favourite book?"

"Those with pictures." At Santana's stare, she shrugged. "Words are boring." Before the Latina could object, as she was just about to, Brittany asked, "What's something crazy you want to do one day?"

Santana laughed, full on. Brittany loved the sound of it.

"Get married," She deadpanned, before shaking her head quickly. "Nah, I kid. I've always wanted to bungee-jump off a bridge- Though I don't think I'd dare do it alone." She gave a quick grin, before: "Almost every crazy thing I want to do involves jumping off something." She'd shrug, before changing the subject. "What club or team were you in?"

"Sounds like fun. I ran track. Long distance- long legs, see?" To emphasize, Brittany moved her knees from side to side, gently buffeting the brunette who was sitting between them. "Coach said they were good for big strides. I tried out for the girls basketball team but got kicked off when I kept missing the basket and hitting my gym teacher instead." Voice bland, she shared, "He was gross, though. He kept staring at us in our gym shorts. It's not my fault the ball was magically attracted to his pervyness." Then a grin. "Nah. I had good aim. Basketball got boring so I turned it into dodge-ball."

Shoulders shaking slightly in laughter, Santana shook her head from side to side, leaning more heavily on the girl behind her, the two of them settling into another easy silence.

"Which state were you from?" The Latina finally asked, dropping her head onto a strong shoulder, tilting slightly so that she could fix her gaze on Brittany. In this angle, Santana's breath tickled across Brittany's lower jaw, causing her to give a faint shiver.

"It's my turn," The blonde complained softly, turning her own head so that their faces were less than a couple of inches apart. "No fair." Then the corners of her mouth quirked upwards a little, and she leaned forward, brushing her lips against a tanned cheek. "But because I'm nice and you're so pretty; Iowa." if she noticed Santana stiffening slightly, she gave no sign of it.

"Um, thanks, I guess." She murmured, voice low.

"It's true," Brittany's shoulders lifted up and down in a shrug. "I think you're really pretty. Like an apple to a fruit bat."

One of Santana's eyebrows shot up in befuddlement, but before she could pull away or comment, she felt Brittany's close in again, soft breaths passing by her ear even as one of the blonde's fingers started playing chords on her arm. Lips hovered at the corner of Santana's mouth, moving closer and closer when she finally found her voice.

"What're we doing?" She breathed, fully unaware that she had said 'we' instead of 'you'.

Instead of answering her question, Brittany had an inquiry of her own. "Is this okay?"

Seconds turned into a minute, Brittany staying quietly hopeful and calm, eyes locked on the tanned face before her while Santana seemed to be struggling with herself, looking around every once in a while. Finally, the darker girl breathed out a "I don't think it'd be a good idea."

"Oh." Pulling back, Brittany studied the uneasy woman in her arms before nodding her head once, a little confused. "Okay." When a low call of 'dykes' reached her ears, her expression cleared. "Oh," She repeated.

"Uptight dickwad," Santana muttered in response, flipping the caller her middle finger.

"Santana!" Brittany admonished, smiling a little. "Think of the children!"

"Whatever," The Latina brushed off, glaring at a child who was watching them with fascination. "Stupid brats."

"You don't like children?" Brittany hazarded a guess.

"They're small and annoying and always seem to have glitter or glue on them. How do all of them manage to be sticky all the damn time?" There was a pause before she asked, wary, "Do you like kids?"

"I was a super sticky kid," Brittany told her cheerfully, "with super sticky friends. We liked mud. I think sticky kids are adorable."

"Ew," Santana wrinkled her nose, before cracking a grin. "I preferred having tea parties. Those that had real food- I was a very chubby kid."

"Picture proof or it didn't happen!" Brittany countered with a smile of her own.

Santana squinted at her before letting out a haughty sniff. "Are you questioning my chubbiness?" she couldn't hide her grin, though, even as she got up and stretched before offering Brittany a hand and leading them away from the park.

Her hand didn't leave Brittany's, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by either of them- Though neither brought it up.

}{}{}{

"This is gross." Brittany made a face, shuffling closer to the other girl on the bed. What the hell had inspired the two to have a Saw marathon?

...oh right. They'd been on the subject of favourite movies, and when Brittany had mentioned that she had never watched any of the Saw films, Santana had gaped at her speechlessly before demanding that they rectify that right that instant. Unfortunately for the blonde, Santana owned every single one of the series, and it was just her luck that they were already at her place- Damn her for wanting to see pictures of a mini Santana.

"No it's _amazing_." The tanned girl denied Brittany's claim, chomping noisily away at another kernel of popcorn as she watched the happenings on her computer screen. She had the movie on her harddrive ("Piracy, San?" Brittany had teased with a raised brow), hence why the two of them were sprawled upon Santana's sheets rather close together, a bowl of popcorn resting on Brittany's stomach.

Their_ third_ bowl of popcorn.

Brittany had stopped eating somewhere through the first movie, her stomach churning sickly. It wasn't that it reminded her anything of real death and blood, just the thought of someone actually carrying _any_ of it out made her want to throw up. She _knew_ there had been a reason why she just didn't watch films like these.

"Can we stop?"

Pulling her gaze away from the scene of Amanda shooting Lynn, Santana stared warily at Brittany before tapping her spacebar, effectively pausing the movie. Shawnee Smith's frozen face filled up the screen (she always did have a thing for the actress) for a few brief seconds before Santana shuts the lid of her laptop, turning to face the blonde more fully.

"You okay?" Was what she asked, brown eyes taking in the other girl's tight-lipped expression.

"Yeah. It just... Bleh."

Santana's head tilted sideways inquisitively, but she let it slide, choosing instead to restart their game. "Favourite actor?" The grin that Brittany gave her as good as told her that that was the better plan, instead of quizzing the other girl.

"Actress- It used to be Jessica Alba." Thoughtful, Brittany shifted on the bed, repositioning her arms around the popcorn bowl. "She was really hot. That girl in Avatar- I thought she was really hot, too." She giggled a little as she shared, "I didn't get the big deal about Avatar, but I liked that girl. I watched the movie like, three times, just for her."

"The blue people totally threw me off," Santana dismissed the movie airily. "Sam was a total nut about it, though. He could even speak the weird language- What was up with that?" She paused, before tentatively asking, "Are you only into girls, then?"

"I like boys too," Brittany shrugged as best she could, "but I prefer girls. They're...cleaner. What about you?"

"Boys, then girls, then both, then now girls. Boys are gross."

}{}{}{

"You _cannot_ be serious!" Santana flailed one arm rather dramatically, trying to prove a point. She came rather close to accidentally smacking Brittany in the face a couple times, though. "You _cannot_ find Spock more awesome than Kirk!"

...yep, you heard right.

"Why not?" Brittany countered, watching those hands warily. When Santana paused to take a breath, she made a grab for her hands, startling the other girl into falling onto her back against the bed and dragging the blonde along with her. "I like his ears."

Santana's eyes bulged just that little bit and she began spluttering incoherently, which made Brittany giggle before leaning forward, stopping just before their lips touched.

"_Now_ can I?"

Again, there was a pause. Then, Santana murmured, so low that Brittany almost couldn't catch it; "We just met yesterday."

"I thought you were pretty the first time I saw you," Brittany admitted just as quietly. "I wanted to kiss you then to cheer you up but I've been told that it makes a bad first expression."

Santana blinked.

"Yeah," Brittany lifted herself away a bit, propping up on her elbows. "You were so sad at first- Then you were all annoyed, so I didn't want to kiss you then." And crabby and rude, but Brittany didn't think it'd be prudent to share that.

"You're pretty all the time but I think you're prettiest when you smile."

Santana reached up and palmed Brittany's cheek to stop her rambling- She didn't know how else to react. The blonde seemed so _sweet_ and sometimes ridiculously clueless, but the fact remained that they had just met _yesterday_ and today, she'd done the unexpected and asked her to accompany her to Puck's _grave_- Something so out of the ordinary for her. At the time it had seemed like a good idea because she didn't know if she could go through with visiting the graveyard on her own again, and Brittany was _there_ and they _had_ met at the cemetery and oh god, she _cried_ all over her. If her friends had seen her then, she'd not hear the end of it. But, Brittany had just accompanied her everywhere without complaint, which probably in itself cancelled out the 'just met' deal, right?

"You're sweet," She told her seriously, brown eyes unwavering. "And you talk a lot."

"P- Somebody I know used to tell me that. I don't think I do. I mean, just when I'm nervous or somet-"

She got cut off when Santana pressed a light kiss to the corner of her mouth. It didn't progress to more than that though, since the tanned girl pulled away to flop back on the bed, studying Brittany's flushing face.

"Shh. You're starting to remind me of Berry."

Before Brittany could even conjure up any form of reply, Santana placed another kiss there, before abruptly pulling back.

"Who, did you say used to tell you that?"

* * *

**Author's Note;; I think I'm going to start posting a chapter every Monday, and a chapter for my other fic every Friday or something. I'll try, anyway. Work sucks.**

**Anyway, should Brittany come clean about Puck right now, or put it off?**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing! Please share all opinions. (:**


	6. Chapter 6

_"Who, did you say used to tell you that?"_

In response to Santana's question, Brittany stared down at the other girl, furiously wracking her memory to recall exactly what she had said. Several moments passed thus, the blonde's face visibly hardening, withdrawing back into herself.

"I didn't."

Santana looked up at her, brows furrowing. On one hand, she wanted to ask, to badger the woman till she got an answer that satisfied her curiosity. On the other, she had just met this intriguing person the day before- She had no right to answers. Not yet. But, there was things- more than one, for sure-, that Brittany wasn't telling her, for reasons yet unknown. It has remained to be seen if those things were of pressing importance to her, but Santana wanted to know anyway. What was that phrase... Curiosity killed the cat? Well, what most everyone forgot to mention was that cats might be curious, but they were also exceedingly patient when stalking down their prey. Santana could stifle her curiosity for the time being, but she was confident that she would be able to get Brittany to spill everything in time.

Besides, if she got overly anxious and pushed the blonde too far... Curiosity may have killed the cat, but didn't you know that satisfaction brought it back? That's right, bitches. Santana, like a cat, had nine freaking lives. When it comes to using whatever one has in order to get answers, she was damn freaking positive that G.I. Barbie over here didn't stand a chance.

Reaching up to tangle her fingers in blonde hair, Santana tugged gently, encouraging Brittany to bring their faces closer. "It's okay," She reassured the girl on top of her, voice soothing and understanding, "later, yeah?"

"Yeah," Brittany echoed, unconsciously nodding her head, gaze fixated on dark brown eyes set in that gorgeous face. "Yeah," She repeated dumbly just before Santana lifted up that last inch to finally- _finally!_- touch their lips together.

After a few seconds of feeling soft, pliant lips moving gently against hers, Brittany let out a grumble when Santana slid her tongue across the seam of her mouth before pushing the blonde away.

"You know," She murmured, smiling mischievously- though Brittany thought it was exceedingly sexy, how her eyes seemed to glint with the force of said smile-, "I used to be in my high school's Celibacy Club." At Brittany's muffled laugh, Santana's smile became a grin and she propped up on her elbows, placing a light kiss on the underside of Brittany's jaw. Her lips curved against pale skin and moved, creeping up on one ear.

"We had this motto, see," She breathed against the side of Brittany's face, feeling the blonde quiver atop of her, " _'it's all about the teasing and not about the pleasing'_." With that, she deftly rolled Brittany off of her and was sitting on the edge of the bed before the blonde could comprehend. A smirk gracing her features, she pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail before turning around, a soft giggle escaping her when she saw Brittany gaping speechlessly at her.

"Tease," Brittany muttered.

Santana beamed guilelessly at her. "That's the point."

}{}{}{

She had never seen anyone eat quite this much of the same thing before- and she'd been in the army. With guys. Hollow-legged, hide-all- the-edibles-else-there'd-be-nothing-left-for-you sort of guys. And yet, Santana beat them all tonight.

"Seriously," Brittany started, watching incredulously as Santana made short work of yet another breadstick, "shouldn't you look pregnant by now?"

The Latina brandished a breadstick in the blonde's face. "High metabolism and exercise. How can you not love these, you freak?"

"They're okay, but that's like your _thirty-fourth_ breadstick, Santana!"

Said girl merely grinned wolfishly in the blonde's direction, crunching her way through yet another. When a harried looking waiter approached the table (with great caution, Brittany noticed) to ask if they were ready to order their main course, Santana gave a brusque "No_, get lost_" in reply.

Before the poor boy could make his escape though, Brittany's arm shot out to flag his attention. He looked about to faint to the floor. Feeling sorry for him, the blonde ordered quickly for herself and, with a sideways glare at her dining companion, ordered for her as well.

Santana's reaction through the whole exchange was to munch unamused-ly on a breadstick and sip at her smoothie. Once the kid was gone, she lifted one eyebrow and stared at Brittany, who rolled her eyes and leaned forward to pull Santana's hand away from grabbing yet another stick. Dark eyes flashed, but she got suitably distracted when she felt Brittany's foot move slowly along her calf.

They played footsie till their dinner arrived, giggling like a couple of teenagers. Sometime during their main course, Brittany had abandoned her pasta and was distractedly tracing shaped and letters on Santana's open palm.

"What're you writing?" Tilting her head, Santana grasped on to Brittany's fingers, halting their movement. "Echo, E?"

Brittany froze for a few moments, then her shoulders sagged slightly. "Company name," She said quietly. "Private E-3."

Santana just looked at her quietly, squeezing the blonde's hand periodically. The rest of dinner passed by mostly in silence, with Brittany zoning out for most of it- And even when she wasn't, Santana didn't seem inclined to keep up much of a conversation.

It was just after dinner, as they were walking on the sidewalk, pinkies linked, when Santana pulled them to a stop and asked, "Did you know Noah Puckerman?"

Blinking in bewilderment that was visibly changing to mild panic, Brittany detached her hand and shoved both into her pockets. A few moments passed before she admitted voice soft, "Yeah. He was in my squad."

She could hear Santana taking audible breaths. "Why didn't you just say so yesterday at his grave?"

"What, like just go up to you and be all 'Oh I knew him too'?" Brittany shook her head. "I didn't want to be creepy."

"And _this_ isn't creepy? You _lied_! What is this- Us?" By now she was doing more of her flailing, her voice rising. "When were you going to _tell_ me you were in the same squad as my _best friend_?"

"No- Santana, I didn't lie," Brittany started, wincing a little at her desperation. "I just-"

"Deliberately withheld information?"

"...yeah. But you were so sad and angry yesterday, and I was going to tell you today but you were sad today too and I thought that this would make you sadder, so I thought maybe tomorrow." One of her hands reached out and she pawed at the other girl's arm, blue eyes pleading. This...was _not_ going smoothly.

Santana pulled her hand away, shaking her head resolutely. "No. It wasn't all me." Brown eyes narrowed, and Brittany had to fight the urge to cower. Maybe, if she'd had this confrontation as the naive (or..more naive, anyway) seventeen year old she'd been back in high school, she might have faltered and possibly ran away from Santana. But she'd gone through a _war_, damnit, and furthermore, Santana was a few inches shorter than she was. She'd be damned if she reacted like a kicked puppy.

So she straightened her shoulders and posture, pulling up to her full height and retracting her arms to her sides. When she spoke, her voice was calmer, steadier. "No," She admitted, "It wasn't all you. I didn't- I _don't_... can't, talk about it. Not yet. But I am sorry. I should have told you, right when I recognized you yesterday."

The Latina paled, visible even by streetlight. "You knew who I was?"

Oh, _shit_.

"No." Santana had taken one step back, so Brittany leaned forward. "Puck had this photograph- You look the same, I-, I-" She faltered, stammering. Now was as good a time as any. "We had a pact. I took the photo, and two letters he wanted to give to his family and the Glee Club."

The shorter woman stiffened.

"You should have given them to me yesterday." Her voice was flat, deliberately so- One of someone who was hiding their emotion. "You didn't need to try to sleep with me first to make it easier. Where are they?"

"I didn't do it to try to-" Brittany was cut off when Santana held up a hand.

"Save it. Just give them to me."

}{}{}{

The walk back to the Inn was quiet, laced with open hostility from Santana's side, and miserable confusion from Brittany's. She wanted to point out that the brunette was being unreasonable, but Santana was _beyond_ crabby and pissed right now. Somehow, she didn't think that this would be the best time. She wished she could, though. It had only been _two_ days- And she hadn't wanted to make her cry more! The fuck was wrong with people these days?

"_Hate to say, babe, but I kinda told you so."_

Oh great, _Puck_. If that moron hadn't asked her to do this, she wouldn't be in this mess right now.

"_This is good, I think. Not that you two aren't hot together, but this way you won't break her more when you leave."_ He walked on Brittany's other side, footfalls eerily silent even to the blonde. _" 'cause if you ended up causing her to lose her shit and get all depressed when you leave Lima, I was gonna have to find some way to kill you. And I don't really want to do that."_

Shut up shut up shut _up_.

"_Why? I'm like your personal Buddha, babe. Whispering wisdom in your ear, or something."_

If he weren't already dead, Brittany swore that she would've strangled him at that very moment.

"Look, I don't really mean to care, but what the hell is wrong with you? You are- _were-,"_ Santana corrected, "like, twitching."

Mute, Brittany brushed it off. Sharing that she saw Puck just next to her, clear as the frown that was currently on Santana's face, wasn't prudent. Or even necessary information. Or so she thought.

Puck sighed. _"Look, just give her the letters, answer her questions, then let her go. Then you can get the fuck out of this deadbeat town and go see the world."_ He paused for a moment, feet scruffing silently on the ground.

"_Hey, Britt," _He finally said, "_thanks._"

Then he was gone.

}{}{}{

"I didn't do it to get into your pants."

Santana looked up from the letter, a scowl overtaking her features. Brittany had opened the door and pulled the two envelopes as well as the laminated picture out of her bag, handing it all to the other girl. Santana hadn't instantly stormed off as she thought she'd do, instead dropping down on a faded armchair to read through the one marked out for the Glee Club. Brittany had taken up residence on the bed, folding her legs under her as she watched. It was only when Santana had finished rereading the letter for the second time that she spoke.

"I never lied, Santana." She chewed her lip, nervous. The palms of her hands were sweating profusely, making her feel like a disgusting teenage boy. "I just didn't know how to tell you yet. I didn't lie," She reiterated, "I was scared. And I wasn't- am not, trying to sleep with you to make it easier." Her voice lowered and broke, before she cleared her throat. "I never _lied_." This time it was a plea, one that she hoped Santana would understand. She looked as though she might cry.

Santana squashed down her want to drop down on the bed next to Brittany and sling an arm around her in comfort, instead choosing to remain where she was- Huddled on a chair. Her eyes blinked rapidly as she folded the letter and slid it back into the envelope- She hadn't known that Puck could be quite so eloquent on paper. There was probably a lot of things that she didn't and wouldn't ever get to know about her best friend, and that hurt. It would also bring on tears, except that she was mortified enough for crying into _Brittany_'s shirt today. A part of her wanted to storm out and just not look back, _ever_, but she forcefully reminded herself that Puck had been friends with Brittany too. Well, enough that she was the one to bring his final messages back.

"What're you doing here?" She rasped, hating the sound of her voice. The _weakness_ was humiliating in itself.

"This...this is my room?" Brittany's confusion, which she had thought was what made her adorable before, just pissed her off now.

"No, I meant here in Lima. After this, what're you doing?" The word_ stay_ was spinning crazily through her, on the tip of her tongue, but she held it back, instead rising from her seat and moving towards the blonde on the bed.

"I- I don't know. I was going to leave once my mission was complete, but..." Brittany trailed off when Santana pushed her shoulders back, swinging one leg over to straddle the taller woman's midsection. "What are you doing?"

"You're hot," Santana began, pulling off her own shirt to reveal a red bra underneath, "and I'm angry at you, and you're going to leave since your 'mission' is over. So this is angry goodbye sex."

Then she crashed her mouth down onto Brittany's.

* * *

**Author's Note;; Already had a bit of this written out, so I finished and decided to post it. **

**As always, all opinions- bad or good- are welcome. Thank you for reading!  
**


	7. Chapter 7

Taken aback, Brittany froze as Santana angled her head and slid her tongue between the blonde's slack mouth, mindless to the harsh, bruising kisses that were being bestowed on her lips. It was only when Santana pulled away, hands sliding under the hem of Brittany's shirt before tugging it up that Brittany finally reacted.

"Santana!" Sucking in a breath, she fought with herself in an effort not to tremble and arch her back when the darker girl scraped her teeth across her collarbone and ran her hands fleetingly over her chest. "Santana, stop-" Her words were cut off when she was kissed again, hard. It took every bit of willpower (that was fading rather quickly) for her to twist her head to the side to break the kiss, for her to suddenly flip them over so that it was she that was on top, straddling the Latina's thighs and holding on to straining wrists.

Using one arm to pin down both of Santana's hands, Brittany awkwardly adjusted her shirt so that it wasn't bunched up and revealing everything. She very nearly lost her focus when Santana bucked under her, clearly irate but aroused, dark eyes smouldering with both anger and lust. Under all that though, Brittany thought she could detect a bit of weariness and perhaps regret, though she wasn't sure. Under her, Santana Lopez was _beautiful_, thick hair fanned out on the sheets, chest moving up and down as she drew in harsh breaths. The taller girl gave in to her want, lifting her free hand to gently brush away the hair that had fallen over the other's face, fingertips trailing lightly over the contours of that wildly exotic (to her anyway) face.

Santana had long since calmed down, the weariness replaced by suspicion, the anger with guardedness. Her dark eyes remained fixed on Brittany's blue ones, narrowing slightly once in a while. She couldn't help but turn her face a little when Brittany's hand cupped the side of her face, pressing her cheek into a warm palm.

"Santana," Brittany's voice was quiet, exceedingly gentle, "I didn't do it to sleep with you. I like you. I've liked you since before I met you- Though you were rude when I did so I didn't like you much then, but I like you now anyway. I wasn't trying to be creepy, I _swear_. I like spending time with you- I had fun, I like being with you even if you're sad or we're not talking. You don't keep asking when you know I don't want to talk, and you don't ask weird questions about my past- It's comfortable, it's... You make me feel comfortable. Santana, this doesn't happen for a lot of people. People can spend all their lives looking and never find it, what I feel." Taking a breath, Brittany finished, letting go of the other girl's hands to frame her face, "You're someone special, Santana. And I'm sorry."

Her own breathing turning ragged, Brittany retreated off the bed and to the armchair Santana was occupying previously, drawing her knees up to her chin defensively as she tried to suppress whatever feelings, whatever desires, she had for the olive-skinned woman. In her mind, chances were high that she would leave Lima sometime in the week- She'd passed the letters over; Puck had demanded she go; and she wouldn't be able to bear being here anyway if Santana still despised her. Or was angry with her. To Brittany, it meant the same thing.

Aware of Santana staring at her from her position on the bed, Brittany looked up, nearly faltering when she met with the Latina's appraising gaze. Moments would pass before Santana spoke, her voice breaking the long silence so abruptly that Brittany jerked slightly.

"What do you feel?"

Surprised, Brittany broke their stare, looking away. Of everything, she hadn't expected Santana to pick up on that particular topic.

"A lot," She finally replied. "I feel a lot."

"Like?" Getting up, Santana walked- No, glided, Brittany decided, watching her intently-, over before coming to a stop right in front of the blonde. Bending her knees and rocking back on her heel, she knelt in front the sitting Brittany so that they would be nearly eye-level, then repeated, "What do you feel?"

Mutinously, Brittany shut her eyes and turned her head away, stiffening slightly when she felt Santana's fingers tap a beat lightly upon her legs. Those same fingers rubbed gently on her kneecaps, trailing along her shins before they stopped at her ankles.

"Britt." Santana's voice had softened, the anger gone to be replaced with the husky reassurance and soothing rasp that she adored, "What do you feel?"

Dropping her legs to the ground and sliding off the chair so she sat on the floor in front of Santana, Brittany reached out with one hand, wonderingly stroking her thumb across Santana's cheek. "Everything," She replied in a small voice, "When you cry, I want to cry too, just so you don't need to cry alone. Or hold you and make sure everything's okay. When you laugh, it makes me laugh. You're someone special, Santana," She repeated, "I think maybe if we try, you can be my someone special, and I can be yours."

Santana didn't reply immediately, but that didn't faze Brittany- The blonde was well equipped with enough patience of her own. In fact, hers would probably be able to surpass the Latina's. She let Santana have time to sort out what she said, though her hand did drop to give the other girl her space.

This was turning out to be the world's slowest conversation.

"I like you too," She finally replied, "But no matter how hard I try, I can't forget that you lied- withheld information as important as this." She amended, "It's a whole trust issue thing. Like, what else of importance have you not told me?" Brittany's silence was answer enough. "_Seriously?_" Santana's voice was overflowing with hurt and disbelief. "In the ideal situation, the answer would have been '_nothing_'. I- _what else_ is there?"

Ignoring that for now, Brittany cautiously said, "No one said it'd be super easy. Nothing is. And, there are some things I just can't tell you yet. I need time, San... Will you please give me some, like you did before?" Reaching forward, she intertwined her fingers with the brunette's, giving a silent cheer when she didn't pull away. "I promise I'll tell you _everything_- I just need time." Her voice had faltered and trailed off by the end, and she could feel telltale throbbing just behind her eyes. Resolutely, she blinked them away.

Finally: "When are you going?"

Bewildered seemed to be the emotion that Brittany was doomed to be stuck on. "Going where?"

"Away from here- From Lima. Weren't you leaving?" Santana asked a little bitterly, "Now that you've fulfilled your 'mission'?"

Perhaps a little too flippantly for this particular conversation, Brittany shrugged and said, "I've nothing puling me anywhere- Except here, since it has Noah and you." Trying to smile but obviously failing, she looked up from studying the floor, meeting Santana's stare. "I won't go anywhere if you're okay with trying to be my someone special."

"...no." At Brittany's crestfallen expression, Santana repeated more firmly, "No. I'd like to sleep on it and tell you tomorrow- In any case, I think we should start again, with being friends first." A faint outline of her trademark smirk flitted across her face as she added- slyly, perhaps-, "You're welcome to try to change my mind."

"Okay," Swallowing, Brittany stood, offering both hands to pull Santana to her feet before she threw her arms around the smaller girl, burrowing her face into the crook of her tanned neck. "Thank you. I promise, soon." Letting go, she went around the room picking up all of Santana's stuff- The letters, her top and finally, the photograph. Her eyes and fingers lingered on the last item, but she passed it over to a confused Santana anyway.

"What're you doing?"

"I," She swallowed again to wet her dry throat at the sight of Santana pulling her top back on, "am going to walk you home. Then I'll ask you on a date for tomorrow and after the date, I'll k-"

"-why?" Santana interrupted (how rude). "I can't go home now; I'll wake up my parents." At Brittany's stare, she shrugged. "I'll crash here tonight. Besides," She lifted her brows, "we've unfinished business to take care of."

Brittany couldn't tell if she was being completely serious or not, so she decided to stay on the safe side of things and "Um, okay. I can sleep on the floor."

With a roll of her eyes, Santana dropped everything on the table, grabbed Brittany by one wrist, and dragged her over to the bed. "Don't be silly. Besides, I'm like a lizard. I always need something warm beneath me in order to accomplish anything- Including sleep."

Not that Brittany managed to nod off until quite late- Santana had clearly expected them to carry on what had been paused before- Except maybe this time with a lot less anger in the equation. However, Brittany had stopped her by laying her down and pressing a kiss to her forehead, before turning around to try to get settled. Santana had been baffled and more than a little disgruntled, but after a moment, gave up sexual thought and just crawled over to flop tiredly over Brittany. Even when the blonde tucked her in _on her side_ after Santana had drifted off a little, she had had to wrap her arms cautiously around the smaller woman from behind- Spooning her, basically, or risk the sleeping Latina squirming over and feeling her up anyway. As she had found out, a sleepy (sleeping?) Santana was a rather handsy Santana. Not that she was complaining- not much anyway. She rather liked the feel of getting to cuddle up close to someone else in a bed again. And, so it seemed, did Santana.

She couldn't resist burying her face in soft brunette locks, inhaling deeply as she snuggled closer, wondering what the outcome of Santana 'sleeping on it' would be. She couldn't help but feel a little bit more cheerful, but there was still that underlying feeling of apprehension. What if Santana told her to go? She didn't really know what she'd do- Stay and be a creeper and openly defy ghostly Puck's wishes, or go and risk not seeing the girl again.

Most might call her a naive romantic with a tendency to lose her head in the clouds, but Brittany really did believe that Santana could be her someone special.

* * *

**Author's Note;; ...heh. No sex for you guys. Whenever I got new review all "ooo sexytimes!" I was torn between laughing and feeling bad, because I never intended to write a sex scene this chapter. I figured, the way I'm writing Brittany (being old-fashioned and all), she wouldn't be too keen to angry goodbye sex. Or even just the goodbye bit. Anyway, thanks for reading, and feel free to drop crits/opinions/anything in form of a review or message!**

**miknge;; haha, when I read your review I was all 'man she's psychic'. I'd already written out that bit, see. Hope it lives up to expectations!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note;; Hey everyone, thanks for all the reviews! Pretty glad no one got all "RRR" about no sex- Except you, ****spectatoroftheshow****. Called me a cockblock, eh? Thanks again for pointing out the sentence error, in case you didn't get my message!**

**You guys should see my face when I actually recognize your names- I get all 8D. I've read a few of your fics before, which makes me doubly excited when you guys review haha. Thanks to those who review for **_**every**_** chapter, makes me aww!**

**The Australia floods are bad, eh? Here's to hoping that where I am doesn't get it bad, or I'm going to be MIA for a bit.**

**Hope you all had a wonderful week, and will have a brilliant weekend!**

**

* * *

**

It wasn't often that she awoke to a beautiful woman lying in bed with her. And she had definitely never woken up to one staring at her before.

When blue eyes blinked open around six in the morning- Jet lag never sat well with her military training-, the first thing she noticed were the other woman's dark brown eyes just looking. For all in the world, they could have been piercing through, digging up all her secrets and thoughts. The notion bemused her slightly, for it seemed ludicrous.

So she stared back, brain fuzzily trying to make a connection between the previous night and the current day. Once she did, Brittany offered Santana a sleep-filled smile before arching her long body in a stretch, working out the kinks in her back before she collapsed back on the mattress with a sigh. "I dreamed you were a cat," She informed her with a sleepy smile, one hand reaching out to trail along a tanned arm. When her brain kicked in, her eyes widened and she pulled back, suddenly apprehensive. "Sorry, I-"

"Oh yeah?" Santana's tone was one of amusement, cutting off the blonde's apology. "What were you, then?"

Relieved, Brittany grinned back. "A dog. A big yellow one with floppy ears and long fur."

Thoughtful, Santana tapped a long finger against the side of her mouth as she thought about it. Brittany's line of sight instantly fixed upon the slender digit and plump lips, a fact that didn't go unnoticed, if that smug smile was anything to go by. "I can picture that," She conceded, before leaning forward. She smelled of peppermint. "I can picture you chasing me all day long. Makes me wonder what you would do _if_ you caught me," Santana purred into Brittany's ear, causing her to quiver slightly, before she pulled back. That insufferable smile had only widened, and Brittany had this urge to roll Santana onto her back and show her _just_ what she would do. But she refrained, instead getting off the bed and moving towards the bathroom, Santana's laughing call of "What type of cat am I? _Pussycat_?" echoing after her.

With a toothbrush in her mouth, Brittany muttered "Pussycat my ass" to herself, before she gargled and spat. Her dream wasn't that far off, though. Santana did remind her of a cat at times- Lithe and toned; she was the epitome of grace. There was this natural arrogance to her that all felines seemed to have, and she switched between wanting to laze around and itching to just move. Santana Lopez, Brittany concluded, was very cat-like indeed.

"_Well_?" The source of her thoughts was spread out upon the rumpled covers, brows up in challenge, eyes dark and tempting. Brittany felt like pouncing and losing herself in the other woman-Brittany should've been the cat, and Santana the catnip.

Instead, she forced herself to slowly approach the bed and lie upon it next to Santana, though she couldn't help but to reach out and stroke her fingers along the stretch of exposed skin above the collar of Santana's shirt. She wanted to kiss it, to run her tongue against the sharp ridge of her collarbone, but refrained. Santana hadn't even picked up on where they left their conversation the night before, choosing instead to play this cat and mouse game- with the ex-soldier as the mouse. That thought was amplified when Santana returned the gesture, nails raking gently across the back of her neck.

"You're grace embodied," She finally managed, trying her best not to close her eyes and whimper even as she recalled and spoke words from deep within her memories- High School English, if she remembered correctly. It suited Santana. "Like a big cat. A leopard, in my dream." The loss of contact when Santana pulled away let her manage to get her mind to focus again. Though she appreciated that she could think coherently again, she still yearned for Santana's touch to return.

"Hmm," The Latina mused quietly, "I guess then _I _would have been the one eating you-" Her lips curved to form the word '_out_' but, like the damn tease phrase she had shared the day before, she didn't voice it.

Frankly, a part of Brittany was confused. This Santana was so different than the one from the day before- Previously, she had been funny and sweet, occasionally goofy or vulnerable. She actually displayed a whole array of emotions whereas today, she was just... Flirtatious and oozing sex appeal. Not that Brittany wasn't enjoying it, but it was just... She couldn't help the nagging feeling that the walls they had broken down the day before had been reconstructed, more solid than before and hidden behind this sexy charade. And, she couldn't help but think that it was her fault. If she had just given the letters...

Or, it could be that Santana was just naturally flirty in the early morning. Brittany wouldn't know, she just met the woman. But, she figured it would be best if she pulled the conversation away from the gutter and bring up a subject to risk spoiling their morning.

"You said you'd sleep on it?" Brittany asked quietly, feeling cautiously optimistic. It plunged slightly when Santana stiffened and remained silent for several minutes. Optimism faded into confusion when the tanned girl let out a sigh and sat up, a move that Brittany mirrored. Her bewilderment only deepened when Santana crawled into her lap, legs comfortably around the blonde's slim waist and hooking at the ankles, arms looped around her neck.

"Santana?" Brittany prompted, though her inquiry faded into a sigh when Santana kissed her. It wasn't hard and demanding like the night before, but soft and chaste, slowly warming up the blonde's blood.

This reminded Brittany of their first kiss- Had it really happened just yesterday?

Finally, Santana pulled away, eyelids hooded. "Okay," She breathed out against Brittany's cheek, arms tightening around her neck. Instinctively, one of Brittany's hands rubbed gentle circles around the shorter woman's back, while the other wrapped around Santana's waist.

"Yeah?" She asked hazily, dropping her face down into the curve of Santana's shoulder.

"Yeah," The other girl confirmed, lips ghosting over the blonde's ear. "I'll give you your time. We'll give this...someone special thing a try. But Brittany," Hearing her name, Brittany pulled back slightly so that she could meet Santana's steady gaze, "no more lies."

Brittany didn't want to fight with Santana over technicalities, so she just nodded and hugged the Latina closer and promised with an "Okay."

}{}{}{

They were talking of separating not long after that, with Brittany promising to pick Santana up at eleven in the morning for a date. "A _proper_ one," She'd proclaimed with a smile.

Santana had been baffled. "Who the hell goes for a date at _eleven_?" She'd demanded, "And why do I even have to meet you at eleven? Can't you just change and freshen up now, then we head to my place and let me do the same, _and then_ we leave from there? Eleven is only _four_ hours away! Besides, _you're_ the new one to Lima, where are you bringing me?"

"It's the _romantic_ thing to do!" Brittany had shot back, stung and exasperated, "I have to ring your doorbell and give you flowers, and you'll be so happy you'll kiss me on the cheek and put them in a vase, _then_ I'll open the car door for you and I'll d-"

"You've been reading too many old-time romance novels," Santana decided, thoroughly amused. Though, she did have to admit that the old-fashioned way of courting charmed even _her_ heart- Brittany wanting to follow those ways made her chuckle at the blonde's adorableness. "It's not practical, Britt. I'd really rather just postpone the flowers and ringing doorbells to another date, and spend all the time in-between with y- Wait. Drive? You don't even have a car! ...do you?" She asked suspiciously.

"Um well," Brittany began awkwardly, fingers threading through her own hair and pulling slightly, "I was hoping we could use yours."

Santana stared.

"I just really want it to be a surprise! It won't be a surprise if I have to tell you where we're going, it wouldn't be romantic! It _needs_ flowers and doorbells and kisses and-" Brittany began rambling, voice insistent.

...she was really into this romance thing, wasn't she? Santana sighed, deciding that the best way to halt this ramble was to place her lips on the blonde's. Good plan, really, but it didn't work out too well.

"-and since I asked you out_ I_ should be the driver a-a-and..." She trailed off, stuttering a little on the last word as all rational thought flew out of the window when Santana palmed one of her breasts firmly. She didn't squeeze, she didn't move her hand, she just laid it there. "S-santana?"

"Oh good," _Now_ the Latina gave a squeeze, grinning when Brittany's pale face flushed. "This actually got you to stop talking."

}{}{}{

In the end, the two of them ended up taking Santana's 'suggestion'. Brittany grabbed a quick shower ("Sure you don't want company, Britt?") and changed into a t-shirt and shorts before they set off for Santana's house with minimum grumbling from the blonde.

She was adamant, see, about the romancing.

While Santana was in the bathroom, she'd sneaked out and ran for the nearest flower shop. She'd been sorely tempted to get the prickly brunette a cactus, but ultimately decided on a single gardenia. The stem was short and it was awkward since the florist stared at her _yet again_, but she thought that the white was pretty. Besides, it could sit in a cup or something.

The Latina's expression when she opened her bathroom door dressed in just two towel to find Brittany holding out the _one_ flower was priceless. If it wouldn't have been rude to do so, the blonde would have pointed out the similarity between Santana's current expression, and a goldfish's perpetual one. However, after a minute had gone by with her date just gaping, the door not even fully opened, Brittany cleared her throat and whispered helpfully, "This is where you kiss me and take the flower."

"The hell?" Santana had spluttered back in reply, "How the f-" She gestured wildly at the bedroom, then the flower, then herself, unintelligible noises escaping her throat.

With a giddy laugh, Brittany flung her arms around the other girl, hugging her tightly and giving her a kiss on the mouth. To her delight, Santana wrapped her own arms around the taller blonde, nails digging into the small of her back as she rose up on tiptoes, hungrily deepening the kiss as she hummed in appreciation. Brittany's hand pulled the towel on Santana's head off, before they weaved themselves into wet, dark locks and stayed there.

It took a few minutes before Brittany realized that this was highly inappropriate, and not at all how it was supposed to play out. She broke the kiss, untangling her hands from Santana's hair, and pulled back, cheeks flushing as she looked down between them. Awkwardly, she tried to hold up the towel that had loosened rather dangerously, though she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face when she took in Santana's darkened cheeks and swollen lips. Sheepishly, she handed the slightly mangled gardenia to the other girl, then retreated back to the bedroom, flopping facedown onto the bed.

That may not have gone strictly according to plan, but it had been a _very_ suitable ad-lib.

}{}{}{

Santana drove a jeep, to Brittany's amusement. A _red_ wrangler. She was starting to realize that this girl had a peculiar fascination with the colour red.

It had taken several minutes of convincing before Santana reluctantly handed the keys over, and once they had buckled in, several more minutes for Brittany to figure out the GPS. ...well to be fair, Santana had helped her out with it- If it weren't for the Latina, Brittany wouldn't have guessed that the square thing sitting _right there_ was that '_car computer map thingy', _as she'd called it.

After more arguments, a rather traumatic (for Santana) car ride where Brittany nearly _crashed_ her precious into a fence, they arrived. And, right on schedule, Santana's voice rang out in disbelief.

"The _aquarium_?" She'd demanded, jaw gaping (yet again). "You drove for _two_ _hours_ to Columbus to bring me to see _fish!_"

"And zoo," Brittany felt inclined to clarify, though she shrunk back a little at the force of Santana's glare. "I like zoos," She tried linking her hand through with the other girl's and giving her best sad pout. "I haven't been in years." She could feel Santana weakening, her tanned hand twitching slightly in Brittany's grip, but otherwise no other protest spilled from her lips.

The blonde couldn't help the faint grin of victory that spread across her face. This, she decided, was a very handy tool that she was _definitely_ going to remember for future use. After all, a compliant Santana was the best Santana of all.

Especially when she slipped her arm through Brittany's and snuggled into their side as they strolled through the quiet aquarium, with the various underwater creatures as their only audience.

She couldn't complain either, when she kissed Santana by the faint blue glow of the shark tank. She could definitely get used to this.

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**Continued Author's Note;; thank you for reading! All opinions are welcome in the form of a review or message. (:**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note;; Aww! The amount of review emails I got when I woke up the next morning totally made me smile. Thanks for your sweet words, everyone! I'm definitely fine; the waters haven't reached to where I'm staying yet. Here's to hoping!**

**p.s. I have a livejournal, under the username **_**basisforming**_**. Just started posting this fic under there, and I have another Brittana story in the works (two chapters up?). It's also AU, and possibly classified under very faint mystery. However, GKEAF is my first priority. **

**Thank you everyone for reading, and especially to those who review! I've discovered that comments and opinions actually get my writing 'muse' flowing, so a huge thanks to those who keep me writing! You guys rock, and this third chapter in just over a week is for you. Also, personalized messages to reviewers are at the bottom of this chapter.**

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The rest of their date went by as smooth as smooth could get. After the aquarium, Brittany hadn't needed to drag Santana out to the zoo- The Latina had been caught rocking back and forth on her heels as the blonde had emerged from the bathroom. She had claimed that she was tired of standing still, but the way she had grabbed Brittany's hand in excitement as they were walking through the entrance had given her away completely.

Lunch was at the Chuck E Cheese in Columbus. That had _not_ been Santana's idea, but a well placed pout in her direction rendered her incapable of protest. She did, however, put her foot down when the taller girl had run off towards the ball-pit, the look in her eyes just wild with delight. Adults boggled, children stared and employees glared as Santana dragged a complaining Brittany to a table and forcefully pushed her down onto a seat. Though, she forgot all about it when Santana ordered a pizza with bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, peppers, extra cheese and onions ("I'm not kissing you with onion breath, San").

Brittany then proceeded to nearly crash the wrangler _again_ when she jerked the steering wheel in excitement as they passed by the Santa Maria. After having a mini heart palpitation, Santana demanded to switch places with Brittany before declaring that the blonde would never again be allowed to drive her precious car.

And _no_, they weren't going to see some stupid boat.

Brittany seemed visibly upset, so, like she had been doing for the _whole day_, Santana caved. The beaming smile and hard kiss that the other girl bestowed upon her made it seem totally worth it, though. Besides, it wasn't everyday that you could tick off a tour guide by refusing to listen to his insanely mundane blathering about something you weren't interested in, and put that time to kissing an insanely gorgeous woman aboard a _ship_. Santana got to fully utilize her pirate vocabulary which, the two of them realized, could be turned _very_ dirty _very_ easily.

By the time they got back to Lima, it was just past seven in the evening, and the two were ravenous. Because hey, kissing totally burned calories.

To Santana's immense pleasure and slight amusement, Brittany insisted on cooking for her. However, since the room at the inn had no kitchen, they went back to Santana's place- Apparently her parents had a function to attend and wouldn't be back till late, so the Latina's mother wouldn't be hovering over them to make sure the house didn't burn down. It might have been better if she _had_ been around, since they found out that Brittany couldn't follow a recipe to save her life, and Santana just didn't have enough of an interest in cooking to ensure that the end product tasted great.

They ended up ordering take-out instead, just in case their second try at cooking proved to be their downfall.

Since Brittany had no car and it was nearing midnight by the time she decided to head back to the inn- despite Santana's suggestion that she stayed over- , Santana drove her. She would have walked the blonde back to her door, except that Brittany pointed out that she would just walk the Latina back to the car, and it would be a never-ending vicious cycle. She _wanted_, pretty badly, to spend the night curled up into Santana's side, but had thought that that was much too forward for a first date. And, since it was a _date_, they couldn't (because Brittany refused) to call it a friendly sleepover. It had to be done properly, she had insisted, and since Santana thought this whole old fashioned courting thing was sort of cute (if a bit annoying at times), she went along with it. For now at least, she was content to follow the taller woman's lead.

Besides, Brittany was an amazing kisser, as was further demonstrated by the heated kisses they exchanged in the car for _half an hour_ (Santana inwardly pumped her fist because hell yes, _score_). She had no complaints about the pace at which they were proceeding- Not yet, anyway.

}{}{}{

She couldn't help the sigh that escaped her when she unlocked the door to her room to find Puck lying on her bed _yet again_, nor could she help wishing that he would stop just randomly popping up.

Without opening an eye, Puck spoke._ "Doesn't work that way, babe. I totally gave you privacy when you were necking with San, didn't I?"_

Brittany had to grudging agree that yeah, he hadn't once appeared while the two girls were actually on their date.

"_Not to say I didn't watch, though,"_ Puck finally opened his eyes, a faintly leery smile on his features, _"It was beyond hot."_

That's it, she was going to kill him.

Just like that, all amusement disappeared from his face. He sat up, tone turning slightly hostile as he glared at her through hazel eyes. _"Why are you still here?"_ He demanded, crossing his arms. _"You were supposed to go; this wasn't supposed to happen!"_

Sighing, Brittany collapsed on the bed, forcing Puck to move over or risk her falling on top of (or through?) him. One arm was flung haphazardly over her face and she mumbled, "I like her. I like her a lot."

"_Is this a matter of the heart thing, or are you here because she seems like an easy fuck since she's all vulnerable and shit?"_ He asked her suspiciously, and Brittany bolted upright, blue eyes chilling considerably as she forced her anger back down. What the _hell_ was with both Puck and Santana asking if this was just her way of sleeping with someone?

"_San and I, we tend to think along the same lines- Kinda why we sucked as a couple but were plenty chill as best friends,"_ The annoying ghost-thing remarked, even though she had said nothing. _"Just answer the question."_

Taking a breath to steady herself, Brittany exhaled out a "_No_". Fingers rubbing circles on her temples, she stared at the covers and repeated quietly, "I like Santana a lot. There are times where I think that she could turn out to be someone special for me. Why are you asking me this? Didn't you hear me tell her so?" The last was almost snapped out- She had entered feeling absolutely amazing, as though she could ascend to cloud nine, but this clean-cut figure in her room had _ruined_ it.

"_Yeah, San _is_ very special,"_ He agreed a little wistfully, a little sadly. _"I love her a lot."_ Straightening, he repeated more firmly, _"I love her a lot. Which is why I'm asking. I'm not going to let a little thing like me being dead keep me from being there for her. I promised her once that I'd always be around if she needed me, and I intend to keep that promise. I'm not a deadbeat." _There was a pause as he swept his gaze over Brittany, before finishing, _"And I think you'll end up breaking her heart. I can sense it."_ Then, quietly, "_You should leave before you do."_

Brittany slammed her palms down upon the mattress, almost shaking. "You're not a fortune cookie with a foggy ball, Puck." She all but growled, "I like Santana, and she likes me. Sometimes, that's all that's needed."

He still looked unsure. _"Maybe,"_ He'd replied, getting off the bed and straightening his shirt, _"but I still think this is going to fucking crash and burn."_ A large hand came down hard upon her shoulder as though in warning, _"She gave you one more chance. Don't fucking blow it because I mean it, I _will_ find a way to punch your teeth in if you break her."_ He didn't just disappear into thin air this time, instead choosing to walk away through a wall , brows furrowed and a thoughtful frown on his face.

Once he was gone, Brittany let out a groan and flopped back fully on the bed again. Of all the people in the photo, he _had_ to be the most protective of the one she liked. Not that it was much of a surprise, if she thought about it- He always did speak of Santana rather (very) fondly, and was in the habit of dropping her name into random conversations. _Ugh_, she should've known.

In spite of Puck's pessimistic foretelling, though, Brittany wasn't just going to give in. She liked Santana too much for that.

}{}{}{

Back in her own room, Santana's phone lit up and beeped, signalling that she had a new message. Opening it, she sucked in a breath and smiled. _Today was awesome._ Brittany, she swore with a grin, was really fucking adorable. Just as she was about to tap out a quick reply, her phone buzzed again.

_You are awesome_

Yep. Pretty fucking adorable.

**It was. I had fun. I think my new favourite spot to make out is the aquarium, I'm gonna have to bring all my dates there next time.** She hit send and bit her lip, muffling a chuckle.

A few minutes passed by before Brittany replied again. Twice. _But its our place_ and _Please dont do that ill be sad_ flashed on her screen.

**Okay**, Santana agreed, because already- and _god_, she felt like a sap- she felt as though that place was ruined for any potential romantic partners except Brittany. **I won't if you won't.**

_Deal i miss you already_

The tanned girl couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped her- Really, for someone who was trained to _fire a goddamn gun_, punctuation on a _mobile phone_ seemed out of her reach. The thoughts of guns brought along thoughts of Puck, and that smile was wiped off her face rather quickly. She knew she agreed to give Brittany time, but she still couldn't help wanting to know _everything_. She had agreed, though, so she squashed the urge to fire off a question via text.

**You could have stayed over, you know.**

_No i couldnt its not proper what would your mother say_

Santana laughed loud and long. Leave it to Brittany to randomly bring up her mother. Still chuckling, she tapped her finger against her chin before typing out a message and sending it, one brow raised in a smirk as she awaited the blonde's reply.

}{}{}{

**I don't think she would have cared. She might break the door down if you were screaming my name, tho. Do you scream? I think you're a screamer. Right?**

Flushed in embarrassment and a little uneasy, Brittany stared at those words. They stared back from the lit up screen as though taunting her and really, she could picture the tanned girl in front of her, stating it with a straight face and an eyebrow lift. How was she supposed to reply to this? Could she just...ignore it?

No, she decided with a sigh, Santana probably wouldn't let it go. Perhaps she should...flirt back?

_You have to find out yourself,_ she typed out and sent, before hurriedly sending another: _But not yet_

**Tease.** was Santana's one word reply, and Brittany bit back a giggle as she imagined the Latina pouting.

_Im learning from you_

**I should feel like a proud teacher, but I don't.**

_Im sorry_

**No you're not. If you were, you'd answer my question.**

_I think youll be screaming my name more_

**That had better be a promise, babe.**

Oh, a challenge, hey? It was _so on_. But not yet, since you know, they weren't at that stage yet. Torn, Brittany gave it some serious thought before deciding to end their messaging- It was, after all, nearly two in the morning and this conversation was meandering down a lane she badly wanted to go down, but refused to. If she held out, it would prove to Santana that she wasn't going to...what was the phrase? 'Fuck and chuck'?

Maybe. Probably. Hopefully.

_Youre beautiful and im going to sleep now so i can dream of you goodnight san_

**Smooth talker. **Santana's amused reply read, **I hope dream me teases you relentlessly, like I would once I get the chance. Goodnight Britt, call you tomorrow. xo**

For some reason, the hug and kiss had Brittany grinning and cuddling her phone closer to her. The visuals that the rest of the message had her mind conjuring up, however, had her more than a little turned on.

It just solidified the fact that Santana Lopez was a damn tease.

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**Continued Author's Note;; I'm a little tipsy, so I apologize for mistakes. A friend had a party and well... I can count on one hand the number of times I've drunk alcohol, and yet I had to take a couple of shots of pure whiskey. It was horrible.**

**Scloogue:**** Oh no! I hope your friend's place is fine and not in too bad a shape! Brisbane and Queensland got hit pretty bad- I've friends there that had to evacuate as well.**

**Meatisadelicacy:**** I laughed really hard when I got your review- It never crossed my mind. Damn.**

**Nova forever****: Whenever you review, I get a grin on my face too! I'm starting to recognize my reviewers and I have to say, thanks ever so much for always reviewing!**

**LeftiesAreHOT:**** Thanks! Unless the weather keeps on, I think I'll be safe enough. And, AND! I recognize you! Thank you for reading and reviewing!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note;; subtly time-jumping from the last chapter! This one's mostly from Santana's point of view. A little scattered and long- I'm turning into a bit of an insomniac, I think. Starting to look around for a beta, if anyone's interested. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing!  
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**Also! Why do you guys think Puck's being so adamant about Brittany breaking Santana's heart?**

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To Santana's great frustration, Brittany refused to let their activities go beyond kissing and a bit of over-the-clothes petting. She wouldn't have minded if the blonde wasn't so fucking touchy-feely, always crushing their bodies together in full-length hugs and giving these tantalizing little pecks, and if she didn't kiss so damn well. To make it worse, Brittany was just so _sweet_ all the time- Caring, attentive and _cuddly_. The little things she did, like opening doors and pulling out chairs and guiding Santana to lean against her front when they sprawled on the couch to watch television made Santana want to keep bestowing thanking kisses upon her lips to wipe off that slightly crooked smile and watch light blue eyes darken with arousal and hear her cry out when pushed over the edge. Santana Lopez could take the sweet- But Brittany's _sweet_ overlapped with sensual, which changed things from innocent to teasing, whether it was unconscious on the other girl's part or not. If the sexual frustration wasn't damn near _killing_ her by the fourth day of their relationship, it certainly was getting overwhelming by the end of the first week, especially since they spent every single day together.

She wasn't so delusional to think that it was _love_ that was the cause of her wanting so badly to get Brittany to sleep with her - Hell no. Nor was she this sex maniac who prowled the streets and jumped the bones of just anyone. Indeed, some of her past relationships weren't consummated until weeks in, and others were sealed with sex right off the bat. She could admit that the _real_ reason, most probably, was because _Brittany_ was the one controlling the pace, not her, unlike in most of her other relationships. Brittany was hot and so very, _very_ sensual and at times (like when the Latina had managed to wedge her knee between Brittany's thighs and sneak a hand up her shirt), Santana could tell that she wanted to let things progress and go all the way. But, invariably, she would pull away and shake her head apologetically.

Once, Santana had been _so damn close_ to shucking off Brittany's pants after discarding hers and the blonde's shirt when she had been stopped and Brittany had just lain there propped up on the headboard, hair tousled and eyes dark. It was one thing for them to stop and Brittany to quickly rearrange her clothing to some semblance of neatness, but it was another for her to just _lie_ _there_, showing off that mouth-watering abdomen. So, the tanned girl had snapped, "_Why?_ Do you have something _extra_ or do you just not like what you see?"

Brittany just stared back blankly, before realization hit her and she sat up, reaching out to snag a wrist and drag a sulking Santana closer.

"There's nothing wrong with what I see," She had told her softly, looping her arms around Santana's waist and rubbing her nose against the tanned girl's collarbone before placing a kiss on it. "I think you're _beautiful_, and I _really_ want to." She had trailed off then, eyes seeming to unfocus slightly as she stared past Santana's head. Feeling a little uneasy, on the brink of hurt and not at all turned on any longer, Santana waited out the silence. Within a minute, Brittany had looked back into the girl's eyes and said, seriously, "But I don't want you to think that I'm still here just because I want to sleep with you. I'm here to _stay_, San, as long as you want me to." And she finished, really quietly, "I'm keeping our hearts safe, like I'm supposed to."

And Santana didn't really want to admit that she would love if Brittany stuck around forever. That was too much of a happy fairy-tale ending, and she flat out refused to believe in those. Not since the age of nine, when all her carefully constructed Disney naivety had been epically exploded when she picked up a book by the Brothers Grimm. Walt Disney and his minions were shitheads, and their version of happy endings could suck it.

There was no way she and Brittany were going to enthusiastically dance and sing their way into Ever Ever After. It was a view that the both of them shared in spades, though for different reasons. Santana because she was painfully jaded and cynical (though she would say that she was just _realistic_); whereas cheerful, optimistic Brittany's cheerful optimism only went so far. The difference was that the latter could be reasonably persuaded if say, _Rachel Berry_ made a convincing PowerPoint presentation on the positive likeliness of happy ever after, and there was no way in _hell_ that Santana would ever be swayed over. Not without a lot of work, at the very least.

Santana wasn't going to fool herself- This thing with Brittany, convincing talk of special someone or not, probably wasn't going to last throughout the summer. As much as she willed it to work, it probably wouldn't for a whole myriad of reasons. She and the blonde were just too different, never mind what was said about opposites attracting. Santana personally thought that the phrase was a load of bull, because 'birds of a feather flock together' totally voided it. Whoever sat on their ass and thought of morals or whatever the shit they were called obviously didn't put too much thought into what they were doing. And even if they lasted till the end of summer, what was going to happen after that? Brittany's aspirations were flighty, idealistic. She was that sort of person to want to _volunteer_ to go to some misbegotten country to help build schools or something. Santana cringed at the thought of working for free- The only reason why she was studying to become a doctor, as she'd told Brittany, was because it had a high income rate and there _never_ could be too many doctors around.

Brittany had been laughingly horrified by that which Santana spoke of so blithely.

"You mean you don't want to be a doctor because you can help people?" She had asked, tilting her head to the side inquiringly- Endearingly.

"No," Santana had replied dryly, "Since most of the patients are probably going to be people who didn't take care of themselves in the first place."

"But what about the rest?" The blonde had pressed, seemingly trying to find a trace of humanity in Santana's answers.

"It's really sad for them since they'd be victims of circumstance-" (Brittany had looked utterly confused here), "- but I don't really care. My job would be to physically fix them, and try my damnest to not let anyone die. And," She'd interjected, sensing that the other girl was about to speak again, "it's for the best if I don't get emotionally attached to patients. I'm not the sort of person who would be able to handle it if people I get to know and like keep disappearing from my life."

She'd wondered when she became so good at having double meanings to her words, but it managed to get Brittany to back off of the topic- Though it had seemed that the girl was going to call her out on a lie. Truth be told, Santana didn't know if she _was_ that kind of person. She wasn't overflowing with empathy like Brittany, but she wasn't _completely_ heartless. She just figured that it would be best if she didn't keep setting herself up to getting emotionally hurt should someone under her watch not make it.

Or, you know, that could just be a cop out.

But she had been thinking about the denied sexy-times she could be having with Brittany, _how_ the blazes did it progress to her future career?

The two of them had gone running together that morning- Santana's idea. She thoroughly regretted suggesting it in the first place. Not only had Brittany been faster and able to last so much longer (she grinned at this because for _some_ reason, she had the mentality of a teenage boy these days), the blonde had managed to keep up a steady stream of talk while they ran, whereas Santana had felt as though she was about to _die_. She had thought she was fit- Brittany was like a goddamn superhero with everlasting stamina or something. Idly, Santana reflected that Sue Sylvester would have _loved_ having Brittany as one of her Cheerios. Wouldn't that have been something? Hard-core gymnast and dancer Britt was not, but she had the fluidity and grace as anyone who had been doing pirouettes since they were yay-high.

...Santana was suddenly wanting to put Brittany in her old Cheerios uniform.

The subject of her less-than-pure thoughts was currently sprawled out on her stomach on the bed, idly flipping through a magazine while Santana sat a safe distance away- At her table, with her laptop open. Sensing her gaze on her, Brittany looked up and grinned cheerfully at Santana, giving a cute little wave in greeting. The both of them were currently in Santana's bedroom, since the brunette had (regretfully) spoken of the need to work on her thesis, but had also wanted company. This had become a common occurrence, the two girls hanging out at Santana's place during the afternoons to let the Latina work, spending mornings at the park and evenings eating in Brittany's room. On days that Santana hadn't felt like staring on the computer, they took day-trips out of Lima.

Like two days ago, they had driven to Mason because Brittany had found out that there was a _Waterpark_ there. Santana had been treated to a glimpse of a wet Brittany in a bikini top and short shorts, and had the pleasure of said wet Brittany hugging her from behind as they slid down a slide and flailed into the water.

Could anyone blame her, really, for feeling so sexually frustrated that she felt as though she was going to spontaneously combust?

Lost in her thoughts of that day, Santana jerked a little when warm hands came down gently on her shoulders, and the side of Brittany's face nestled at the back of her neck. "You should take a break," The blonde murmured into Santana's ear, "you look like you're thinking too hard. Tell me?"

Leaning back, Santana gave a sigh of contentment when Brittany's fingers massaged at the knots on her upper back. "Just thinking."

"Of?" Brittany gave a small smile and gingerly placed herself on Santana's lap when the dark-haired girl patted her thighs.

"The letters, mostly. I'm going by Puc- Um, Mrs. Puckerman's place tomorrow to give her hers." Her face flushed a little at the topic, but she kept her voice steady.

"Oh?" Turning her head, Brittany bumped noses with Santana as blue eyes looked unwaveringly into brown. "Should I come with?"

"Yeah," Santana breathed out, "I'd appreciate the company."

"Okay." Brittany pressed closer, laying her forehead against the other girl's. "What about the other one?"

Santana thought about it, before gently moving her shoulders in an up and down motion. "Most of us are back in Lima for the summer. I can call for a reunion- A _gathering_," She amended, "and pass it on then." She hesitated, before stating, "You should attend that one, too."

She could feel Brittany tense as she pressed her cheek to Santana's collarbone, but she still agreed with a soft "Okay.".

"Yeah?" She asked, blinking a little at how easily she had gotten the other girl to acquiesce.

"Yeah. Anything for you."

Definitely more alert now, Santana decided to push her luck, though she tried her best to keep her tone light and teasing. "Anything?" Brittany was silent, though she nodded her head once.

Clenching her jaw, Santana braced herself as she slid one arm under Brittany's legs and stood, causing the blonde to suck in a breath and cling a little tighter to Santana's neck, a soft giggle escaping her.

Santana mentally patted herself on the back because... Well, just because. She's fucking awesome to be able to pick the taller girl up and bring the both of them over to the bed without tripping, okay?

And so they ended up on the sheets, Santana landing a little heavily on Brittany when they got there. After taking a few breaths, Santana lifted herself up on her elbows to stare down at a smiling Brittany.

(She somehow got the idea that Brittany wasn't really aware of what she wanted to do and suddenly, she wasn't so sure about what she had initially set out to accomplish, which was to either fuck their brains out or ask questions to which the blonde wouldn't give her answers to.)

Without a word, she leaned down to press their lips together lightly, though she couldn't stop the smile that had her lips curing upwards when Brittany tangled her hands in dark locks and deepened the kiss. She was content enough (despite the somewhat risqué direction her mind had been hurtling towards _all day_) to just kiss languidly without the intent of seeing how far she could get today- Really, she grinned inwardly, Brittany sometimes reminded her of Quinn, with the whole no sex thing.

Breaking the kiss, Santana let out a little sigh and burrowed her face into Brittany's chest before closing her eyes and exhaling another serene sigh. Feeling utterly relaxed, Brittany gently stroked her hand along Santana's spine, choking back a giggle when Santana _purred_. Like, full on- She could even feel the shorter girl rumbling contentedly against her chest. She didn't bring it up though, instead just continuing what she was doing.

It didn't take long for Santana to doze off, still laying atop of Brittany.

}{}{}{

When Santana awoke, she was in a slightly different position than before- Instead of lying on top of Brittany's chest, she found herself half on, half off of Brittany's back, arms tucked under the blonde's stomach. It would seem that sometime during the nap, Brittany had flipped over to lie on her stomach, her face buried in pillows as one arm slung possessively over the other girl's back.

Santana liked that, a lot. It'd been a while since she had cuddled someone like this - She wasn't one to grab on to a warm body in her bed, preferring to be the little spoon and have the feeling of someone cuddling _her_. But this? This felt good. Right, even. She could totally get used to this, and for that sole reason, she hurriedly pulled away and threw herself to the end of the bed, as far away from the lumbering Brittany as she could get without actually falling off.

Brittany (adorably, Santana thinks), doesn't immediately wake from the clumsy movement, just groaned into the pillow and shifted a little, flinging one arm out to where Santana's body had been but minutes before. And Santana watched, slightly amused, as that arm felt around the empty space for a bit before Brittany lifted her head blearily.

"S?" She called out groggily, sleep causing her to draw out the letter slightly.

"Here, Britt." Cautious now, Santana crawled back up and cupped Brittany's cheek in her palm tenderly thinking, for the hundredth time at least, that the blonde was pretty fucking adorable.

"Where'd go? Wha' time iszit?"

"Um." Santana peered closer at the luminous numbers on Brittany's watch before replying, "Nearly midnight. We slept almost five hours."

"Oh." It took several seconds for Brittany to process the information; when she did, her forehead crinkled. "_Oh_." Stretching out the kinks in her back, she yawned and rolled over before sitting up. "I need to get going."

Rocking back on her knees, Santana eyed her with an unreadable expression.

"Yeah," She finally said, "I'll drive you."

}{}{}{

Something seemed off the following day. Santana was oddly quiet and withdrawn, Brittany was tense and silent. Apart from the customary 'hi's, they hadn't exchanged much in way of speech this morning. However, they kept shooting the other either contemplative or wary looks as they were walking to the Puckerman's, a space between their bodies instead of them linking arms and bumping into each other as they walked. Each were lost in their own thoughts.

Santana was nervous. Her grip on her own emotions was shaky at best, and she wouldn't be able to handle anyone else's crying. Oh god, what if Mrs. Puckerman started crying? The lady had known Santana since she was in her single digits with unruly black hair and a teacup set for her tea parties that she forced a then afro'd Noah to attend. This same woman had caught Puck and Santana about to go at it in his room when they were both fifteen, had sat them down and given them a talk about the importance of safe sex and then went on to buy the boy a box of condoms. Then proceeded to stare at Santana when the two broke up and Quinn's pregnancy became known.

Sometimes Santana wondered if Mrs Puckerman was _disappointed_ that it had been Quinn who got knocked up, and not Santana. The 'lesser of two evils' phrase kept dancing around in her brain.

Thing was, she was a strong woman- she had to be, to put up with a son like Puck-, and Santana wouldn't be able to take it if she _cried_. She had already witnessed enough of that at the funeral, and it had come as a shock when the lady who had been one of her childhood role models sobbed unashamedly as her son was quietly (though just about everyone who had known him had shown up) laid to rest- The Puckermans had turned down Noah having a Military Funeral, as he'd once jokingly mentioned, during a term of leave, that it was all pompous horn-blowing and flag passing and _damn_ it would bore the hell out of everyone and he couldn't have that happening at his funeral, could he? They, however, refused to have an open bar at his funeral, as he had waxed eloquent about with his eyes all shiny and bright. In fact, his mother had smacked him around the head when he spoke of it.

Brittany, on the other hand, wasn't thinking so much about the crying as she was about potential questions that could be asked. If she couldn't tell _Santana_ everything, she sure as hell couldn't tell Noah's _mother_ that she had seen the life bleed out of her son's eyes. She didn't even want to say that she had been in the same squad as the man- What if they hated her for surviving while he didn't? How would one cope, being the recipient of that hatred?

She wanted to suggest they ring the doorbell and leave the letter on the doorstep and _run_, Santana wanted to suggest that they just put it in the mailbox, but neither of them said a word- Not even as Santana lifted her hand and rapped her knuckles against the brown wooden door. Neither of them ran away or even took a step back when a haggard looking woman pulled the door open, a faint smile spreading across her tired face when she caught sight of Santana.

Neither protested when she ushered them in and insisted on getting at least a glass of water for them before they settled down to talk.

}{}{}{

They managed to slink out of the house relatively unscathed less than half an hour later. Mrs Puckerman (to Santana's great relief), had refused to read the letter till her daughter got home from school that evening. Small talk had trailed off and died a terrible end when Brittany kept staring at the Purple Heart next to a portrait of Noah on the wall, resolutely refusing to open her mouth to add to the already strained conversation.

After awkwardly (but politely) declining the older woman's offer to have lunch with her, the two were out the door, with Santana promising to visit before she left for San Francisco. That got Brittany's attention, blue eyes widening as she swung back around to stare at Santana. How had she not known that the girl was studying _all the way over there_?

Once they were back on the side walk, Brittany scruffed her shoe against the concrete as she tried to figure out what to say. Before she could, though, Santana broke the silence first.

"You didn't talk, like, at all." Brown eyes eyed the taller girl warily for several moments before she reached for Brittany's hand, intertwining their fingers together. "It was awkward, I'm sorry I made you come with. Are you okay?"

_I'd go anywhere with _you was on the tip of her tongue, but Brittany merely nodded. "Are _you_?" She hesitated, before muttering, "A purple heart never made sense to me. An ugly medal doesn't bring back what has been lost. The war is stupid. Shouldn't have joined, should've learned to glue shoes together or something."

Unable to think of anything to say, Santana just squeezed their joined hands and patted Brittany on the arm.

"I'm okay. C'mon, let's grab lunch."

* * *

**Continued Author's Note;; I appreciate opinions and comments, and thank you everyone for reading/commenting/favouriting/alerting!**

**Killer cereal****: I RECOGNIZE YOU. And am totally giving myself a mental high-five for managing to remember who you are, haha. Thank you for reviewing!**

**Nova Forever:**** I'm going to have to admit, I googled Ohio rather intensively trying to pick out destinations for them to go to. I've never ever been there, though I think a friend has once told me that Ohio is infamous for its...corn? Or was that Idaho? I've also honestly **_**never**_** been to a Chuck E Cheeses before. I had to google that too. Thank you for your lovely words!**

**Melux85:**** why do **_**you**_** think Puck's sure Brittany would break Santana's heart? (: I've got an idea and it'd definitely be covered in later chapters, but I'm curious as to what you're thinking. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Scloogue****: BRITTANY IS TRYING NOT TO MESS UP! Haha, trying **_**very hard**_**. Your review is lovely and so are you! It's good to hear that your friend's place is alright, and I do hope things get better in her area. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note;; I got myself a beta~! Yay for LeftiesAreHOT!**

**Late update since I've been having a bit of a family problem- if it weren't for my lovely (annoying) beta, I wouldn't update till things settled down. But man, she is like a dog with a bone. A bone covered in peanut butter. SHE IS RELENTLESS. Just so you know.**

**Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing!**

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They didn't get lunch. Not even close.

While walking through the park to get to an eatery, Brittany had stopped Santana with a slight tug at her wrist, her own disjointed rambles of everything and nothing fading away. Slightly wild blue eyes stared at the shorter girl's face, zipping from side to side without focusing on a particular area for too long, as though she was trying to memorize the gorgeous (confused) face right in front of her. Santana hadn't spoken since they left the Puckerman's sidewalk, since she had suggested lunch and taken Brittany's hand in hers. And Brittany had ignored that, paid no attention to the girl save to keep mumbling about purple hearts and dead and sand and guns and shoes. That hadn't been very polite, and she felt contrite.

The warmth of Santana's palm in her grasp had Brittany looking down, absently stroking her thumb over the back of a tanned hand. "I'm sorry," She whispered, keeping her gaze fixed on their linked fingers.

Santana's confusion only deepened. "What about?"

"Everything." Seeking reassurance, Brittany burrowed her face into Santana's shoulder, rubbing her cheek against smooth muscle. "For making that awkward. For not telling you everything you want to know." Needy, she clung closer to the shorter woman, placing apologetic kisses on the corners of full lips even as she nuzzled their noses together. "For always stopping sexytimes. For not giving you everything that you want."

"Oh Britt," Santana sighed, feeling like laughing at the blonde calling sex 'sexytimes' – it was just _so_ Brittany – but the tone of the blonde's voice chased all mirth away from her mind. "It's not your obligation to indulge in my every whim and fancy."

"But I want to," Brittany muttered petulantly.

"But you don't have to," Santana pointed out before she hugged the taller woman closer, once again thinking that Brittany was, in fact, very sweet.

"But I _want_ to," The blonde insisted, drawing back slightly to stare at her girlfriend. "I want to tell you things but I don't know how. I want to give you _everything_, but I can't because it's weird so I give you flowers instead." Santana's room was nearly overflowing with different flora, since Brittany made it a point to pick up something before they met each day. It got as crazy as orchids, but could be as simple as a sprig of rosemary (more of an herb really, but still).

Blinking owlishly, Brittany looked hard at Santana, willing her to understand. "I want to give you me," she began slowly, as though it'd help the Latina in getting what she was saying. "But I'm scared that I'll lose myself. I want to give you _me_," she repeated a little desperately, "but if I do, I'll be giving you my heart.

"I'll be _taking you_ and giving you _me_," Brittany emphasized, "and I don't know if my- _our_- hearts will stay safe."

"Oh Britt," Santana sighed again, though this time it was more because she had no other response. No other response, that is, except for pushing Brittany back up against a tree and kissing her frantically, wanting to dispel the heavy seriousness their conversation reeked with. The tall blonde returned the kiss with as much fervour, hands creeping up to fist the material of Santana's shirt and pulling the tanned girl as close as she could get.

The kiss was sloppy and wild, lacking any of the finesse that both girls were capable of. Brittany tried to insert all of her emotions into it – her fears, desperation, frustration, and even perhaps her potential love for the brunette in her arms. Santana seemed to sense it (if not all, then at least some), pushing Brittany harder against the rough bark and trailing her hands lightly over the blonde's flexing abdomen before gliding smoothly under her shirt and up around to palm the smooth panes of Brittany's back.

With a shiver, Brittany broke the kiss and leaned her forehead against Santana's, panting slightly. Goosebumps broke out over her skin and she trembled when the shorter girl stroked her fingers along the small of her back, nipping roughly at Brittany's neck.

"Wait," Brittany managed, even as one of her legs lifted to wrap securely around Santana's waist. "We can't-"

"Not _we_," Santana pushed away, glaring angrily. "You. _You_ can't, Brittany. I can –I _want_. You speak of everything that _you_ want- what about what _I _want?" When Brittany looked away, gaze flitting to the ground, the brunette sighed, dropping to the ground and propping her head on her knees. "You talk about keeping our hearts safe, Britt, and of you giving yourself to _me_ – or you _taking_ me." After a bit, Brittany sat down on the grass next to her, their shoulders barely touching. Santana looked up to meet a wary blue gaze.

"Have you ever thought that maybe_ I'll_ be _giving_ me to you?" She asked, voice soft. "You won't be _taking_ anything, Britt. There's a difference between my giving freely, and you taking."

"Maybe I'm not _ready _to give!" Despite her best efforts to keep calm and neutral, the words came out agitated, and Brittany smacked her head against her open palm in utter frustration. She had been told many times in her short life that she was slow, stupid – 'just a dumb blonde' – but Santana was being _so_ dense at this moment that it made Brittany's stupidest moments seem like nothing. Now she knew just how others felt when _she_ was being obtuse. "Why can't you understand? _I can't_. I _want_ to. But I _can't_."

Brown eyes widened, before they narrowed in what Brittany deduced was hurt. Before she could say or do anything else, though, Santana had already stood up in a flurry of tanned limbs and taken off in the direction from which they had come.

_Well, shit._

* * *

_Something as simple and as _primal_ as sex should not be this complicated. It wasn't that Brittany was opposed to having sex with Santana – who in their right minds would? It was just that every time she felt as though they were about to go all the way, about to experience that _something_ with each other, there was just this..._distraction._ One that was enough to pull Brittany's mind away from a very sexy Santana and to a not-so-sexy sight._

_Puck._

_Once, Brittany had been _so sure_ that they were going to go all the way – their shirts were off and she had very nearly let Santana pull her pants down – then Puck appeared, face stretched in a leering grin. Brittany wanted to kill him for interrupting what could have been one of the best moments of her life with his stupid face._

_And stupid comments._

"This is hot,"_ He'd said with a wide grin, _"I'm wishing I were still around just so I could tap both of you at the same time. Know what I mean?"

_Unfortunately, she did. She couldn't reply though, what with Santana being _right there_._

_..._Santana._ Oh, shit._

"Why? _Do you have something _extra _or do you just not like what you see?_"

_Jerked away from her rather murderous thoughts, Brittany stared at Santana in bewilderment. What was she even talking about?_

"Oho!"_ Puck had called out cheerfully (gleefully, that bastard), _"She just asked if you had a penis, babe!"_ ...Yep, she was definitely going to turn him into a ghost of a ghost. "_Have to say, I'm definitely wanting proof that you don't."

_Then before she could prove herself to be an utter loony in front of Santana by lunging for someone the other girl could not see, Puck vanished with a wave and a grin and a _"Don't break hearts, G.I. Jane"_, leaving behind an effectively killed mood. And a sulking Santana. And a pouting Brittany who had to think really fast – not her forte, by the way – to lift Santana out of her sulk._

_Every single time that the two girls were close to having fabulous, mind-blowing sex, Puck's ugly mug would appear and just _ruin_ everything. Santana wasn't the only one feeling as though she was about to die from sexual frustration. That asshole had also taken to sitting on the toilet while she took a shower, meaning that she couldn't _take care of_ herself without lecherous eyebrows jumping up and down in a sickeningly pervy motion. Noah Puckerman may have been forced to grow up in more ways than one, serving in a war, but he was still very much a hormonal teenage boy (sex shark) when it came to other things. Like boobs. Being in a camp with a whole shitload of other guys meant that he picked up a lot of tits-and-asses jokes to add to his already extensive collection – something that made most of the girls around cringe and want to slap the head of every chauvinistic ass around, but resignedly accepted as fact anyway._

_She had made friends of soldiers from other squads, and sometimes, Brittany couldn't help but wonder if they were all still alive. It was ludicrous to think that everyone made it, but could anyone really blame her for not wanting to think of just how many families had received Purple Hearts commending their children's/spouse's/parent's bravery and valour by fighting for the country? It made her want to snort and blow things up at times, the idea that anyone would think that a pitiful scrap of metal and cloth could really compensate for a life. That a flashy _funeral_ would make up for someone _dying_ for nothing._

_Oh, there was always that initial flare of excitement at the thought of _fighting for the good of mankind_, at the thought that they would be able to make a difference in the world. That being sent off to get shot at by guns and tanks was a _good thing_. They were cured of that naivety very quickly. And of course, the pay wasn't bad either. While serving, they didn't have much to spend on so that money basically sat in bank accounts and accumulated._

_That, added on to her ten thousand dollar enlistment bonus, had meant that Brittany was able to build up a decent sized nest egg in just four years. For the first two years, half of everything got sent back to a farm in Idaho, but after those two years, she got to keep everything she earned. It wasn't super impressive, but it was there, and it was definitely enough for her to live her dream of seeing the world._

_If she could ever tear herself away from Santana, and Lima, that is._

* * *

_Ugh_.

Still sitting on the ground, Brittany bashed her head against her knees a few times. "Stupid, stupid, _stupid_," She muttered before crawling to her feet and holding her suddenly limp body up by grabbing on to a tree. "Stupid, stupid, _stupid!"_

_"Yeah,"_ A wholly familiar and _unwelcome_ voice agreed with her sentiment from up in the branches, feet tapping out an idle rhythm on the trunk. "_That was very stupid."_

Scowling, Brittany flipped Puck the bird before taking off after Santana. Not that that deterred the annoying douchebag. Nope, he just leaped off the tree like a freaking puma and gave chase, long legs easily catching up with her.

_"Whatcha gonna do? San was pretty fucking pissed," _He observed, arms pumping steadily.

'_I don't know,' _She thought back irritably, _'I just have to improvision when I actually catch up to her'._

"_I think you mean improvise_," Puck informed her without missing a beat, _"and that might not be the best idea."_

_'Then what! ?'_

_"Maybe it's time to get her that cactus,"_ He advised her with a little grin, _"so that when you see her, she can just throw it in your face."_

Fucker.

A quick glance around ensured that no one was looking, which was all the incentive she needed to launch herself at Puck, hands instinctively wrapping around his muscular neck. She was going to _kill_ this ass deader than a doornail, then put the pieces in a bloody paper shredder, then scatter the dust off as many hills as she could find.

His laughter only served to enrage her further and she very nearly forgot that she had a hurt Santana to first find, and deal with. The time for stalling might be over, she admitted to herself.

...she was not looking forward to this.

}{}{}{

For all that Brittany was the track-and-fielder, she couldn't catch up with Santana. Most of it might have been to do with her not knowing which direction Santana had taken off in, but she couldn't help feeling like a failure. The best idea she had was to go to Santana's home and sit there since... Well, the Latina _had_ to go home sometime, right?

Which was how the blonde found herself camped outside of door of Santana's room, rapping her knuckles against the door once in a while. She'd gotten there and seen Santana's shoes strewn haphazardly on the carpet, so she figured that she was in there, behind the locked barricade.

"Santana _please_," She pleaded, forehead resting on cool wood, "I'm _sorry._ I didn't mean to snap at you." Music she couldn't name played softly in the background, reverberating from within Santana's room, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out her knocks and voice. She didn't even know if Santana was listening, or had her head buried in pillows. What she couldn't know was that Santana was sitting on the other side of the door, head on her knees, debating between opening the door, or hiding, or just asking the blonde to go away and not come back.

There was a sigh and a long silence, before Brittany's voice wafted through the piece of wood separating them, much softer than before.

"Noah always mentions you, you know. He loves you, and it's like he's watching over you. Every time we try, I keep hearing him warning me about breaking hearts. I could love you, San – I think I already do, a little bit, and..." A brief pause and another sigh as Brittany dug her fingernails into her palms, the pain keeping her from speaking more of what should not have been brought up – not yet, anyway. When she spoke again, it was even quieter than before and she had to physically stop herself from bolting. To prevent that, she clung to the doorknob and breathed out everything as fast as possible.

"I saw Puck _die,_ okay? Sometimes I think if I'd just pulled him away, or managed to wrap his neck, or just _done_ _something_, he'd be okay and you'd still have your best friend. But then I think if he were alive, I wouldn't ever meet you and I've just been so _happy_ and I feel so guilty and _selfish_ and -"

And, like in all storybook and movie clichés, it was _then_ that Santana chose to throw open the door, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. And for the nth time that day, Brittany could only choke to a stop and think, well, _shit_. She'd only been able to say all that because with a barrier between them, she wasn't distracted by the sight of the brunette's lovely face, across which all kinda of emotions would dance. She'd only been able to say all that because of the illusion of protection the door provided, which, she could admit, was a little pathetic. But now there was no more such illusion, and all that was going through her mind was oh, _shit._

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**Continued Author's Note;; someone guessed correctly as to why Puck cares so much. I'm torn between being all D8 that that happened, and 8D because it did. However, to satisfy my ): side, I'm not going to say who it was. WOO /tease.**

**I love opinions!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note;; and after nearly a month... -cower- I'm really sorry everyone! I worked on a Brittany/Quinn story and was staring rather uselessly at 4 prompts for Puck/Brittany, Finn/Brittany, Finn/Santana and Mike/Brittany. I've to write two of them as an exchange with my beta, and I don't know which ones to write. WEIRD HET COUPLES OMG -stabstab-. ALSO, DEAR READERS, WHO STILL HAD A FUNCTIONING BRAIN AFTER THE LATEST GLEE EPISODE? because I really have to shake your hand. Mine basically exploded.  
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**Okay. Next chapter would probably include the 'glee reunion'**- **Depending on whether or not Santana manages to get into Brittany's pants, heh heh. Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing (as well as to those who sent me reviews and messages asking when I was going to update/if this story was still going on)- and to my lovely beta _LeftiesAreHOT_. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!**

**Personalized messages at the bottom of this chapter. Enjoy!  
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_"Have you ever thought that maybe I'll be giving me to you? You won't be taking anything, Britt. There's a difference between my giving freely, and you taking."_

_"Maybe I'm not ready to give! Why can't you understand? I can't. I want to. But I can't."_

That had hurt, far more than Santana expected it to.

No, actually, scrap that. She hadn't thought Brittany would ever say anything that would hurt her feelings; it was a little disappointing to know that she had been proven wrong. It had been ridiculous, that Santana had had her feelings bruised by what Brittany had said. It was even more ridiculous that she had expected Brittany to turn out to be the one person who ultimately wouldn't make her end up feeling like she'd just been punched in the middle. But really, she took all responsibility for that. Things like _trust_ and _feelings_ had no logical place in summer flings; more fool her for falling prey to wide blue eyes, an innocent facade and infectious laughter. Curses upon herself for having unwanted (_unneeded_) reactions and feelings whenever the two of them made out, and whenever they spent time together. Which was just about every second of the day.

Was sex really that much to ask from someone who, in all likeliness, wouldn't be around once the summer was over? It was _just_ sex. And okay, so she liked Brittany that little bit (a lot, actually, damn feelings) to stick around even with the whole no sex thing, but Santana hadn't ever been a chastity queen. No, that girl had been Quinn. Santana liked sex; all through high school she had been busy getting her mack on. Then she graduated and a couple of years later, became of legal age to actually saunter into bars and pick people up if no one in any of her university classes had been prospective date material. Point is, the Latina had never really been _celibate_ once she passed the age of sixteen. She wasn't used to being so..._on edge_ for a prolonged period of time. It wasn't to say that she didn't like the whole 'getting to know you' bit with Brittany it was just...

What better way to get to know someone than by having sex with them?

Unfortunately for Santana, Brittany didn't seem to share the same sentiment. And, not for the first time, she was left wondering about the blonde's past.

Utterly miserable now, Santana kicked off her shoes and left them strewn on the floor of the living room (her mother would _kill _her, had she been around) and went to her room, locking the door behind her before flopping face first on the bed. High school had _never_ been this complicated. Ever.

By the sound of the front door opening and closing as well as knuckles being rapped against her bedroom door, Santana could tell that Brittany had found her. Finally. After... An hour, she realized, shaking her wrist and turning the volume of the music up higher. It wasn't that she wanted to ignore Brittany- Well, actually, that was a lie. She fully intended to make Brittany grovel.

}{}{}{

This was ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous, even.

She'd known Brittany for less than a month- Hell, less than two _weeks_, even, but she was so freakin' attached already. For all her intent to make Brittany crawl over proverbial broken glass to earn forgiveness for her _evasions_, Santana hadn't managed to last more than a couple of minutes of Brittany knocking and calling through the wood before she slunk over to quietly slide her down the length of the door. The hollow reverberations of Brittany's knuckles against the barricade hammered into her back, and she dropped her head on her knees, palms itching to reach out and be laid upon the other woman's smooth skin. She wanted so badly to pull open the door and scramble into Brittany's lap and stay there for hours, playing with the ends of soft blonde hair idly as the taller girl's nose nuzzled the side of a tanned cheek.

And that scared her. It was all too much, too fast, plus they had a...shared history, of sorts. A shared history that came in the form of Noah Puckerman. That in itself was reason enough for her to shy away, was it not? But, for some random reason that Santana still wasn't totally clear on, Brittany had chosen to meander away from the most straightforward path available and basically forge her own way through a tangled web of deceit and lies- No, she corrected herself with a mental sigh, _evasions_, not lies.

"_Santana,_ _please."_

A funny little spasm shot through where Santana imagined her heart was at the plea, which was probably the only reason why the door hadn't been flung open. _Too much, too fast_, the girl repeated to herself, burrowing her face between her knees while exhaling noisily. Falling in love was not a part of her plan- Not that she had a strict life plan, but you know-, and _potentially_ falling in love with someone she just met? Wasn't part of _anyone's_ plan, not unless they were ten and believed in fairy tales. Santana was twenty four, of an age where reality had long since crashed down on her head. There were no fairy tales. Happily ever afters? Pft, _please_.

Hence why the way she felt with Brittany terrified the crap out of her and made her feel so secure at the same time- Which in turn terrified her again. What a lousy vicious cycle.

_"Noah always mentions you, you know. He loves you, and it's like he's watching over you. Every time we try, I keep hearing him warning me about breaking hearts. I could love you, San – I think I already do, a little bit, and..."_

At the last bit, Santana visibly flinched, leaning away from the door as she fought not to scramble under her covers or something equally absurd. Her life since Brittany crashed headlong into it was turning into a regular rom-com, wasn't it? But she straightened up, because Brittany was finally, _finally_, opening up about Puck. And if she needed a door between them in order to talk, so be it. However, her knuckles tightened and flashed white as she dug her nails into her knees to avoid saying anything. Her vision swum a little, though whether it was due to dredged up memories of Noah or at Brittany's confession of "I could love you" was still a little unclear.

_"I saw Puck __die,__ okay? Sometimes I think if I'd just pulled him away, or managed to wrap his neck, or just __done__something__, he'd be okay and you'd still have your best friend. But then I think if he were alive, I wouldn't ever meet you and I've just been so __happy__ and I feel so guilty and __selfish__ and -"_

Now she did jerk away- Up to her feet before she yanked open the door, causing Brittany to pitch forward slightly at the sudden movement. A few seconds passed before blue eyes rose to meet brown ones, focusing on the bottom lip that Santana had between her teeth. Pulling open the door had been the _opposite_ of what she had wanted to do- It had been a knee-jerk reaction to what Brittany had said. She had wanted to lay into the blonde because it _hurt_, it wasn't _fair_. Why Noah? Why not Brittany? It was Brittany's fault- She had even said so. Hadn't she? What had she said, _exactly_?

...did it _matter_? Honestly, all Santana wanted to do right now was sweep the blonde up into her arms and just... hug her. It surprised her, because of everything she could want to do, she chose a _sappy_ move? Good god, the people she was in high school with would be so disgusted.

But screw them. Reaching down, Santana wrapped her fingers around one of Brittany's slender wrists and pulled gently, engulfing the taller woman in a full on hug when she stood, relaxing a little when long arms reached around to pull them closer together. As keen as she had been for Brittany to talk to her regarding more _serious_ matters, that last fun fact concerning Puck had thrown her for a (not at all) fun ride and for now, the only thing she really wanted to do was rest her forehead upon Brittany's collarbone and just hide away from the world for a bit. For all her shortcomings, Brittany was _safe_. When Santana was pressed against Brittany like this, she felt as though the blonde exuded this illusion of security that reached out to include her in it. And she couldn't help but take comfort in it.

With a sigh, the brunette turned her head slightly, bumping her nose against the column of Brittany's throat as she did so. A small smile had her lips curving upwards when she felt the taller woman's pulse hammering from several spots where they were pressed together- Against her cheek, her chest, her tummy. Under her palms, one of which had slid under Brittany's shirt to come to rest against her lower ribcage between both their bodies; craving the skin contact. Or was that her own heartbeat? Santana wasn't really sure and right now, she didn't really care.

Right now, all she wanted to do was remain pressed up against the other girl and breathe in the comforting scent that she had come to know as Brittany. The world and reality could be ignored for a little while longer.

}{}{}{

When, after several minutes had passed with them just standing there with one of Santana's hands wedged between them while her own arms were draped tightly (read: possessively) over the smaller girl's waist, Brittany felt Santana pull her into the room, she was reasonably startled and confused for a moment or so. Then there was that insistent tugging again, as well as fingernails scraping lightly over her abdomen, fingers heading lower till they could curl around the belt-loop of Brittany's shorts. And if Brittany was a boy, all her blood would have rushed down to her groin at the gesture. As it were, she already felt as though Santana could lead her around by the (proverbial) dick and she wouldn't mind at all.

One in the room though, Santana seemed to hesitate, gaze flickering between Brittany and the bed. To solve that problem for her, Brittany hitched Santana up, one arm sweeping under to support the Latina's legs before she dropped them both onto the computer chair, cradling Santana between her arms as though she were a child on her parent's lap. The girl didn't seem to mind, looping her arms around Brittany's neck and burying her face in the soft material of the blonde's top.

More time passed with them staying thus, before Santana managed to speak again, her words mumbled and inaudible. Brittany stroked her thumb in circles over the brunette's collarbone in silent encouragement.

Clearing her throat, Santana repeated, "It wasn't your fault." Though, to both their ears, it sounded unsure and seemed phrased in the form of an uncertain question.

Brittany shook her head. "Feels like it, sometimes."

"Don't blame yourself, Britt." Santana paused, struggling to look for the right words. "Unless it was you who killed him... Don't blame yourself." And it was obvious that she couldn't find the proper words to convey what she was thinking.

Torn between wanting to blurt out a 'no' and being completely amazed that Santana was taking it _so_ well- no sarcasm intended-, Brittany just stared, mouth opening and closing though no words came out. This was all? Santana wasn't going to... To yell and scream, smack Brittany upside the head and blame her for her best friend's demise?

Santana's expression turned wary, suspicious. "What?"

Leaning forward, Brittany hesitated before tentatively kissing Santana on the lips. An approving grumble could be heard when Santana, without breaking the kiss, squirmed and wiggled so that she was straddling the woman on the chair, one leg on each side of her body.

"Thank you for understanding," She managed to mumble before pulling back, "I'm sorry that what I said before hurt you."

When Santana narrowed her eyes, Brittany cringed. Liking someone like Santana was like being on a rollercoaster. One that had a fifty percent chance of breaking down completely while you were still on the ride. At times, Brittany felt like Dumbo the elephant- As though she had just jumped off a flaming building and was hurtling at a frightening speed towards a trampoline that was not likely to be able to take her weight. Except no, she couldn't fly and didn't have an irritating talking mouse as her friend and guide. Sometimes it seemed that Santana would catch her before she landed, but at other times, it was equally likely that she was going to smack flat against the ground. And Brittany was pretty sure that falling in love wasn't supposed to feel like this. She didn't know that Santana felt the same.

This whole 'falling' business was really sketchy.

"Is there anything else I should know?" Santana finally asked.

Her first instinctive reply was to say that no, there was nothing else. But it caught on the tip of her tongue, rendering Brittany silent for a few moments as she thought about it. There _was_ the fact that she saw Puck fairly regularly, but apart from that, there really was nothing. But how could she say it? 'Well, I see your best friend's ghost from time to time, please don't think I'm crazy' yeah, _no._

"Nothing," Brittany replied with a shake of her head, sealing her final half-truth with a squeeze to Santana's hips. The Latina seemed sceptical, so Brittany kissed the corner of her mouth firmly, arms tightening around her waist. "I'm sorry."

Some things, Brittany reflected as Santana finally relaxed, sliding her lips reassuringly along the blonde's, were better borne by oneself. It was better for one to carry one's own burdens- Or in this case, ghosts. Brittany may not have been the smartest person ever, but even she knew that informing someone that she could see ghosts (or in this case, _a_ ghost) was a guaranteed one way ticket to the loony bin. And, for all that padded walls were sure to be fun, she really didn't want to be there.

"Okay." Santana smiled sheepishly, nails scraping lightly across the back of Brittany's neck, "Then I guess I should tell you that I knew of you before we met." When one of Brittany's brows rose, Santana grimaced. "Well, I knew of a 'Britt Pierce". When you introduced yourself I thought you said 'Brittany Spears' and it didn't occur to me that you were the same person till... that night. But I was angry so, yeah."

Brittany's thumb rubbed the small of Santana's back absently, her hand having slipped under the shirt without her being conscious of it. "Yeah no, understandable. I'm sorry," She repeated. Then, unable to help herself, she asked: "What did Noah say about me?"

Santana waved the apology off with a shake of her head. "Tell me what he said about me first," She challenged, lips quirking up to a small grin. "Tell me yours I'll tell you mine."

"I thought it was _show_, not tell?" Brittany countered, trying to remember what it was that Puck had said about his best friend.

* * *

"_You wanna know about my best friend?" Puck had asked, amused. His large hands dribbled a basketball effortlessly as they playfully faced off during a shared break._

"_Yeah, 'cause you keep mentioning her. I'm curious." When the boy lost his focus, she stole the ball out from under him and spun past, leaping up high to dunk the ball through an imaginary hoop. Which basically meant that she aimed it at his head. "Aha, slam dunk! What's the matter Puckerman, can't multitask?"_

_The man was less than pleased, rubbing the top of his head where the ball had bounced off. "Shut up, Pierce. I was thinking of her back when we were in high school and... If you were me, you'd be distracted too." His hazel eyes glazed over a little before he lewdly hip thrusted. "She's... Unf."_

"_Okay, gross."_

_

* * *

_

No, that probably wasn't the best memory to share.

"Okay then," Santana was saying with a little smirk on her face, "_show_ me yours and I'll _show_ you mine."

..._unf_ indeed. Perhaps Noah hadn't been too far off the mark.

"Maybe," Brittany conceded, "But you have to ask me out first." Running her lips lightly over Santana's ear, she had to fight against the grin that threatened to spread when Santana shivered. "I'm not that easy."

"What?" Santana complained, "We've been going out like, every day."

"Yeah, but that's me asking you out. I want to know what a date planned by you is like," Brittany explained, blue eyes narrowing upon the shifty look that Santana was exhibiting. "It doesn't have to be fancy- We can stay in. As long as what we do is... _you_." Then she shut her eyes because, _really_? Talk about leaving that door wide open. It was going to smack her in the ass- She knew it was.

And Santana noticed, as was evident by the huge grin she was now sporting. "You make it too easy," She teased. "Okay. Tomorrow, we'll...hang out. And I'll show you what I like doing on dates. And then..." She snickered, trailing her pointer finger teasingly down Brittany's nose before laying a small nibble to it. "We'll see."

Brittany's breathing hitched. " 'kay," She managed.

"And next week's the Glee reunion." Brown eyes softening in sympathizing comfort, Santana stroked Brittany's cheek lightly. "I'll be there with you. Don't worry."

"No, no worries," Brittany agreed, nuzzling their faces together.

"Brittany," Santana cradled the blonde's face between her hands, expression turning serious. The ex-soldier was having this weird sense of déjà vu.

"No more lies, okay? You can tell me anything."

All Brittany could do was nod. The Puck thing? Wasn't a lie. It was just something that Santana didn't _need_ to know. Not now, probably not ever. Maybe now that (almost) everything was out in the open, Puck would go away and leave her alone. Maybe.

She could hope.

* * *

**Continued Author's Note;; I like opinions! (:**

**ILoveRockandRoll: Heya! Okay, at first I was all O_O "WUT, PSYCHIC!" then I realized that no, you were sort of close but..not. I was on holiday when I thought up this story- No internet + grandparents stories + _The Lucky Ones (Film)_ = GKEAF. I was flailing because I thought you had seen the film and so far I've not encountered anyone who has. You should watch it, it's pretty neat. Plus, it had Rachel McAdams, so it's a thousand bonus points for me. I was basing this (very very very loosely) on what her character did, basically. However, I love Nicholas Sparks! I'm going to find that book and read it because you piqued my interest. Thank you for your recommendation, however unintentional! My favourite book of his is 'The Guardian'. And I loved. LOVED. A Walk To Remember- The film. Oh, and my beta says she wants to kick _your_ butt. Apparently only she is allowed to threaten me.**

**Scloogue: I tried PMing you but it said you had your PM feature turned off. ): anyway, LeftiesAreHot loves you too. She wanted you to know this. Thank you for your review!**

**meatisadelicacy: You need to share your ideas as to why you think Puck is being a dick. I am very interested.  
**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note;; hullo everyone! Thank you for your lovely words, much appreciated. This chapter is kinda sorta a filler. Kinda. It brings their relationship to the next level but is basically a 'plot? what plot?' sort of chapter. My inner nerd also shows up here, apparently, according to my beta. **

**GleeeFan:I sent you a PM!  
**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

Brittany hesitated to ring the doorbell. She'd received a text from Santana asking her to come on over whenever she wanted the next day, so she took the other girl at her word and jogged up the driveway around six in the morning. And now, she wasn't so sure if this was the best idea ever. After all, normal people were usually still sleeping at this time, right? She could have _kicked_ herself- Of course Santana meant for her to come over at a _reasonable_ time.

Once again, she had taken words at their literal meaning instead of reading in between the lines. What an _idiot_.

Biting her lip, Brittany contemplated either texting Santana, going away and returning later or just sucking it up and scaling up the side of the house to crash into Santana's room through the window like a _boss_.

And really, when put that way, wasn't the choice just so obvious? It also helped that Santana's bedroom was on the first floor, and any random rookie would find it insultingly simple to vault through the helpfully open window. She was going to have to talk to Santana about shutting her windows at night from now on because it had been way too easy to break in without use of the front door.

Holding back a chuckle, Brittany sat down on the edge of the bed and gently swept the tousled locks of Santana's fringe away from her face, fingers lingering. Sometime during the course of the night, the girl had thrown the numerous pillows and stuffed animals that took residence on her bed onto the floor along with her blankets, and had somehow yanked the bed sheets off the mattress and rolled herself into them. It was really cute, endlessly adorable, and for a moment there Brittany entertained thoughts of belly flopping on the sleeping lump before her teeth rotted away from the cavity inducing sweetness. She refrained from pulling a wrestling move though, because she was pretty sure Santana would beat her up. However, running her fingers lightly along a warm cheek was totally allowed.

Santana shifted and her nose wrinkled adorably, making Brittany 'aww' and continue rubbing her thumb over the smooth line of Santana's jaw. When the sleeping girl bared her teeth and her mouth opened and shut with an audible click where her fingers had just been, she suddenly wasn't quite as amused anymore.

After double and triple checking that her finger was in no way harmed- could you blame her, have you _seen_ Santana's teeth?-, Brittany peered back at Santana's face, thoroughly surprised and slightly put-out when she realized that the other girl was awake and staring.

"It's creepy to watch people sleep," Santana informed her around a yawn, struggling her way out of the bunched sheets to sit up and drag her fists across her eyes. "God. What time is it?"

"But you sleep like a puppy," Brittany half-protested vaguely, giving a quick glance to her watch, " o-six-twenty-seven."

"Like a what?" A pause, then: "_Six twenty-seven_? Why the heck- What- But the sun is out!"

"The sun rose at o-five-fifty-four today," Brittany recited, so seriously that Santana placed no doubt upon her statement.

"Okay. Okay," Speaking through another yawn, Santana flopped back down onto her mattress, beckoning Brittany over with a finger. The blonde woman crawled closer hesitantly, unsure of what she was supposed to do. All was made clear, however, when Santana pulled her down and wrapped one of Brittany's arms over her body, making her effectively spoon the shorter Latina from behind.

At first, Brittany tensed, blinking nervously as Santana snuggled closer and heaved a sigh, her body slumping as she went back to sleep- Just like that. It was only after Santana's breathing evened out that Brittany could really get comfortable, gingerly turning to pick up a couple of discarded pillows and arrange them both into a more comfortable position; with Brittany's front to Santana's back. One arm draped possessively over the other girl's waist, Brittany intertwined their fingers together before burying her face into dark hair, contentedly breathing in Santana's shampoo and faint perfume.

It took her longer to fall asleep due to her years of waking up at the ass crack of dawn and _staying_ awake till night time, but with the Latina pressing warmly against her front and her senses reeling from an overload of _Santana_, Brittany managed to doze off within the hour.

}{}{}{

Santana woke first, surprisingly.

Still groggy, she lifted her head and squinted at her bedside clock, before letting out a muffled snuffle and turning so that she faced Brittany. It was ten forty-three, which was a much more appropriate time to be awake.

In sleep, Brittany's face was slightly scrunched, a crease wrinkled in the middle of her forehead. Peculiar, really, since for most people it was vice-versa. For them, their faces smoothed out when they slept, leaving them looking vulnerable and child-like. Brittany, however, looked more haggard while resting than anyone should be allowed to. The girl didn't look like this when she was awake, why the heck would she look so worried now?

Propping her head on one hand, Santana reached out with the other, trying to smooth out the lines. Somewhere along the way, she got distracted and started caressing the side of the blonde's face. Her thumb swept over the side of Brittany's mouth before she leaned closer to brush her lips there instead. And, like Sleeping Beauty, Brittany woke to her true love's k-

Wait, what?

Feeling slightly panicked, Santana drew back and was about to roll off the bed to beat a hasty retreat when Brittany placed a hand on her elbow, pulling her back in. A contented rumbling not unlike a purr of a cat could be heard being emanated from within the taller girl's chest as their lips slid together familiarly, causing Santana to grin slightly. She obviously wasn't the feline, _Brittany_ was.

Pulling Santana closer, Brittany nibbled on her lips, hungry. It took a while before she could yank herself back, smiling up at the dark haired girl and managing to rasp out a "Hi."

"Hi back," Santana rubbed their noses together playfully, before sitting up. "I need a shower first." She pressed one more kiss to Brittany's lips before clambering off the bed, heading to her bathroom. At the door she stopped, turning back around with one eyebrow raised high.

"Want to join?" She smirked cheekily at the blonde still on the bed, teeth flashing.

And by god, with Santana standing there with rumpled bed hair and dark, sultry eyes, it was really touch and go.

}{}{}{

"No- Britt, _no_, stop shooting me- Oh goddamnit!"

"I was shooting at an alien!" Brittany protested, her thumbs working at the controller to bring the Spartan over to the body. "See? He's so ugly!"

"That was me, Britt. I'm playing Arbiter while you play Master Chief. We're on the same side. In Halo 3, the Elites are on the same side as the humans, okay?" She sighed, fingers tapping impatiently over her own thigh as the screen refused to let her respawn until Brittany had taken out everything in the area. "Turn, there's something behind you, come on- _Augh_."

Master Chief had died spectacularly, with Brittany hurling him off a bridge in a panic when several Brutes converged around the character.

The two stared at the television in silence, watching the Spartan flail for a few seconds before drowning in the murky water_._ The game then deposited back to their last checkpoint, and Santana looked over to Brittany, swapping controllers with her.

"You play Arbiter now. Don't... Don't kill the puny human. Don't kill _me_, okay?"

She needn't have worried about that, actually. Within the next two minutes, Brittany accidentally launched a plasma grenade at Master Chief, who then proceeded to die, leaving Brittany's character alone to face off with the same band of Brutes as before. This time, however, Brittany kept her cool and managed to bring her gravity hammer smashing down on the head of one of them, clubbing another alien in the face and shoving the last into the water before giving chase after a screaming Grunt. Little cowardly bastard.

"This is _fun_," She informed Santana, shooting the little creature in the head and effectively clearing the area for Master Chief to respawn. "Most interesting date _ever_. But you know what this means, right?"

Santana frowned as she did one final action to complete the mission, then turned to her companion. "No, what does it mean?"

"You're a geek."

"What!" Santana spluttered, "I am not! I just-"

Amused, Brittany dropped the controller and climbed onto Santana's lap, linking her fingers behind Santana's neck and staring down at her affectionately. "Geeks are cute. _You_ are cute. If you're a geek, I'm one too." She pressed her lips briefly to Santana's before pulling back to explain, "Sometimes we got to hook up a PS or Xbox and we'd play Call of Duty or Left 4 Dead for _hours_. I liked Viva Piñata but no one else did so I never got to play it."

"You're a dork," Santana grinned up at Brittany, her controller long since forgotten and dumped somewhere on the floor. "You're a very pretty dork, though. Geeks have pimples and live in their mother's basements and work as pizza delivery. You don't look anything like that, so you should be a dork instead."

"Santana!" Brittany chastised, laughing, "That's mean and doesn't make sense!"

The Latina twinkled up at her, all flashing white teeth and crinkled lines. Then her smile faded. "Puck and I used to play CoD together. We made the best team ever."

Placing one hand against a tanned cheek, Brittany gazed sadly back at the other woman, the corners of her lips curving downwards at the look on her face. "I'm sorry," She murmured, feeling inexplicably guilty and useless.

"It's okay." Santana tightened her arms around Brittany's waist, burrowing her face into Brittany's shoulder. She placed an idle kiss onto the skin left bare by the tank top, scraping her teeth lightly over her collarbone.

Exhaling a pleased sigh, Brittany dipped her head, tongue playing along the curve of Santana's ear. "Is there anything I can do?" She asked- _rasped_-, knowing exactly what she was doing. Maybe... Maybe it was time. She might not have felt a hundred percent ready, but then again, Santana hadn't been the only one feeling like she was dying of sexual frustration.

"It's okay," Santana repeated, pressing their cheeks together and sighing softly, "Just... Stay like this for a bit."

Needless to say, Brittany was a little confused. She thought they were going to do something _more_, but then Santana had basically just shut that whole part down. Bewildered as she was, she stayed still, her arms tightening their hold against Santana. She liked this. _This_, where the other girl seemed to meld into her, every angle and bump fitting snugly into the contours of the blonde's body.

As her face was nuzzled into dark hair, she missed the faint smirk that crept across Santana's features- An eyebrow quirking upwards ever so slightly, lips curving to show just the faintest hint of teeth. She did, however, feel the faint touches of Santana's fingers as they toyed with the hem of Brittany's top before sliding under slowly, warily. Brittany's muscles jumped reflexively, goose bumps breaking out all over her skin and she had this urge to jump out the same window she came in by, but she squashed the want to run, instead turning to fuse her lips to Santana's.

It was easy. Almost too easy, even. A little part of Santana was disappointed how Brittany seemed so willing _now_, but then the taller woman pulled them both to the bed and pushed Santana down to straddle her hips, sneakily unsnapping the front clasp of her bra and her fingers were _everywhere_ and her shirt was gone then Santana wasn't capable of thinking of anything much or at all.

_Game, set, match._

}{}{}{

It'd been _months_- perhaps even over a year- since Brittany had had sex with anyone. Hence now, crouched atop of a topless Santana, blonde hair falling forward to frame both their faces, the only thought going around her head was _'I hope I don't suck_'.

...well. That _had_ been what she was thinking, until she managed to get Santana's shirt off. The woman lay under her, eyes dark and breath uneven, chest bared, and all Brittany could think of was how much she wanted to bury her hands in Santana's thick hair while kissing her senseless. Or touch her boobs inappropriately. And a little bit more too, of course, but for now, she _had_ to memorize the taste of Santana's skin, to run her tongue over a nipple and delightedly watch it pebble under her touch.

Santana squirmed, alternating between pushing and pulling at Brittany's shoulders in her indecisiveness. Her hips lifted with no protest whatsoever when the blonde rubbed long fingers against the waistband of her shorts and just like that, all her clothes were off, tossed somewhere on the floor. Her own hands kept busy, first shucking off Brittany's top then popping the button of her denim shorts, the harsh rasp of the zipper unnaturally loud in her ears.

Sitting up, Santana kept her gaze on Brittany's face as one hand slowly, cautiously, drifted down between them, fingertips trailing along Brittany's abdomen before hesitantly slipping into her shorts.

Brittany's mouth went slack, eyes snapping shut as her back bowed, leaning back so far that her shoulders touched mattress when Santana's fingers slid between the soft material of her underwear and warm, wet skin, the pads of her fingers rolling her little bundle of nerves so delightfully. Santana's wrist was bending at an unnatural angle so she gently pushed Brittany back to lie fully on the bed, nimble hands quickly divesting the blonde of all remaining clothing, keeping both their mouths (and subsequently, minds) occupied with the clever use of tongue and teeth. She couldn't afford to have Brittany spooking and bolting- Not now.

However, running was the _last_ thing on Brittany's mind. Breaking the kiss, her lips drifted down to Santana's neck, nipping and sucking and swirling her tongue over places that made Santana quiver. A particularly hard bite was delivered when the other girl put her fingers to good use between Brittany's legs before the blonde's head slammed down against the bed as she let out a low keen. Arching, her thighs trembled as they fought to keep her back off the mattress, pushing up to take Santana deeper, eyes screwed shut as her hips rolled onto Santana's fingers.

And she was, Santana reflected, the most beautiful sight she'd ever had the pleasure to see.

Her free hand palmed Brittany's left breast, head dipping to take a nipple into her mouth. If possible, Brittany curved back even more, soft whimpers escaping in sync with each thrust of Santana's fingers and each flick of Santana's tongue.

"Britt." The brunette heaved herself over Brittany's body, her weight pressing the other woman back down onto the bed as she leaned up to kiss her again, "Britt."

"Huh?" Brittany managed, reaching up blindly to dig into Santana's shoulders. Pulling her eyelids apart through sheer willpower, she stared hazily at Santana as her legs wrapped around Santana's body, her hips undulating against her moving hand.

_Panting_ should _not_ be this sexy, but with Brittany lying there, eyes dilated and unfocused, vulnerable and open to her ministrations and a light sheen of sweat covering her body, Santana was sure that yeah, panting _was_ pretty darn sexy- Especially when it was _Brittany_ that was doing it at this particular point in time.

Santana didn't reply, choosing instead to stare intently at Brittany's face as her hand sped up, one finger rubbing quick, tight circles around Brittany's throbbing clit. She could _feel_ it pulse in time with what she was certain was the blonde's heartbeat and that only spurred her on. She wanted to see Brittany come undone, wanted to memorize every last expression that flitted over Brittany's face as her orgasm overtook her.

All she could say was, Brittany didn't disappoint.

Blue eyes widened and seemed to stare straight through Santana before they rolled back and her body jerked, nearly throwing Santana off of her. Short nails digging into her bare skin made Santana hiss but keep going, only slowing her pace gradually until Brittany's body stopped bucking and subsided to a minor tremble, till high pitched mewls of her name softened to uneven breaths. She couldn't help the smirk that adorned her features when she pulled her fingers out, revelling in the way Brittany clenched and twitched around the retreating digits.

Wiping her hand on the bed sheet (it was going to have to be washed anyway), Santana propped herself up on one elbow, still lying on top of Brittany. She leaned down to press her lips hungrily against Brittany's, tongue slipping in and exploring every bit of Brittany's mouth until the both of them were gasping for air.

"I assume that was...adequate?" She breathed, grin widening when Brittany nodded frantically.

"Your turn?" Brittany asked, hand snaking between them. Her brows furrowed in confusion when Santana gripped her wrist and shook her head.

"Nap first," The Latina informed her, "Then my turn. I can see that you're about ready to nod off." When Brittany tried to protest, she cut it off with a quick kiss. "Sleep, Britt," She ordered softly, "I'm okay."

The blonde wasn't in any shape to put up any further fight as her eyes were already fluttering shut. She did, however, manage to roll them over and throw a toned leg over Santana's, one arm wrapping around her waist and pulling the shorter girl closer before her body _and_ mind shut down.

Santana followed soon after, sparing only one glance towards her television where the hapless Master Chief and Arbiter were being swarmed and massacred by a whole army of Grunts for what was probably the millionth time. Turning off the TV and console could wait- She liked to think that she had her priorities straight.

(She wouldn't, however, think so when they woke to find both controllers flat, their batteries completely dead.)

* * *

**Continued Author's Note;; I'm not really experienced at writing smut so I do hope this lives up to standards. I'd love your thoughts and opinions!**

**Also wishing well for those who went through the earthquake and tsunami in Japan today. Stay safe, everyone.  
**


	14. Chapter 14

**Title:** God Knows Even Angels Fall  
**Pairing: **Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** R-ish this chapter.  
**Summary: **AU. Finished with her tour, Brittany's back in the States with an obligation to fulfil. She isn't too sure how to go about it, or if she even wants to- Especially once she gets to know Santana.  
**Warnings**: Character death from 1st chapter**  
Spoilers:** Bits and pieces from everywhere, so to be safe, up to current episodes.  
**Word Count: **6000.  
**  
Author's Note;;ugh, I'm so, so sorry or taking this long! I've been busy with school. Real life, all that jazz. As an apology, have this super long chapter. It's part 1 of the reunion, since I didn't get to cover too many 'srs bznz' issues in here.**

**The amount of reviews I had for the last chapter was amazing! Thanks ever so much, everyone, and please do keep telling me what you think! It's wonderful motivation.**

**xx  
**

* * *

Oh no. This was not good. This was- _Fuck._ This was a fucking _disaster_.

More than slightly exasperated by this time, Santana threw down her concealer and leaned forward to examine her face closely in the mirror once more. Unfortunately for the woman, multiple layers of makeup had done nothing whatsoever to hide the big, ugly shiner of a bruise spread over her left eye. Of all the days for her to get a fucking _sunrise_ on her _face_, it had to be on the day of the reunion.

It hadn't been Brittany's fault- Not really, anyway. After having sex together for the first time, the blonde had been sleeping over with startling regularity. If she wasn't at Santana's place, then Santana was with her at the motel. It wasn't just about sex, though they both agreed that it was pretty damn great. It was just that ever since they'd first met at the beginning of summer, the duo had been slowly learning about the other in a lot of ways- All, even, except for intimately. But now that they were spending just about every waking moment together, all those little details and nuances came rushing through.

For example, Santana found out that Brittany had a tendency to shove her bed mate right to the tip of the mattress so that they balanced rather precariously on the edge, scoot down a little and rest her head on their stomach whilst hugging on to their midsection rather possessively while the rest of her body took up the length of the entire bed. It'd been cute and just that little bit sweet at first, until Santana fell off her own bed and bruised her ass on her own floor_. That_ hadn't been a shining moment and had to be remedied.

Santana snored, and _apparently_ sleepwalked. She'd woken up once all sprawled out over her desk with her notes littering the floor and having no clue as to how she got there while Brittany lay face down on the bed, still fast asleep. After that one time, Brittany took to spooning the shorter girl from behind, arm holding Santana close to her while her nose nuzzled into dark hair. It was all so affectionate and, dare she say, _loving_, and Santana would usually revel in feeling cherished and coddled in this way- Except for a couple of things.

In sleep, Brittany heated up like a furnace. Her heartbeat slowed considerably, and her body temperature spiked. In winter, that would be rather handy. However, it was now currently summer, and the nights were getting sticky and warm. That coupled with Brittany the heater made for some very uncomfortable nights for Santana. Blasting the fan wasn't an ideal solution, since cuddling with Brittany meant that one side of her would be all sweaty whereas the other side froze. She hadn't really found a solution to that yet.

The second thing was that on some nights, Brittany got rather... twitchy. She would roll away and sort of curl in on herself, arms clutching a pillow to her chest tightly. Despite only having known Brittany for a short period of time, Santana quickly learned to leave Brittany be instead of trying to spoon with her again. Throughout the night the blonde would toss and turn, mumbling unintelligibly to herself. Once when Santana had been woken up by a trashing Brittany, she tried to wake the blonde up by laying a hand on her arm and shaking gently. Within seconds she found herself pinned to the mattress, a strong forearm pressing against her neck and cutting off her air supply. Freakily, Brittany's eyes seemed to be closed. Fortunately for the Latina, old self-defence lessons kicked in and she managed to scrabble at Brittany's wrist and wedged a leg between their bodies, throwing the taller woman off and ultimately waking her up.

Brittany had been endlessly apologetic and horrified beyond belief and, truth be told, Santana had gotten a little spooked by that incident. The next night, there was a barricade of pillows between the two of them. A barrier that was quickly demolished sometime during the night, as they woke to all the pillows scattered somewhere on the ground and to Brittany wrapped tightly around Santana.

It was obvious that Brittany was damaged in some way and as a medical student, Santana really didn't have the time to try her hand at fixing anyone. As much as she considered what she had with Brittany to be a mere summer fling, she couldn't help but think about the _what if_s, _maybe_s and _hopefully_s. Besides, this was her summer vacation and she really, _really_ liked this chick. That little bit of damage wasn't that big a deal when she placed it alongside all of Brittany's good points, which had to count for something, right? Right.

And so she had continued thinking, until this morning. Aside from that one incident, nothing else had happened. Save that while they had been sleeping last night, Santana accidentally jerked in her sleep, her hand that had been resting against Brittany's collarbone suddenly clenched, twisting and yanking at the blonde's shirt.

She woke when Brittany's fist met her face, and her pained yelp resulted in startling Brittany awake.

Which lead them to where they were now: Santana internally raging at her ineffectual makeup and Brittany sitting on the edge of the tub looking utterly downcast and forlorn. They were to meet the rest of the Gleeks for lunch in three hours and Santana was looking for all in the world as though she'd joined a fight club and got her ass handed to her. And it was all Brittany's fault.

At this point in time, the smartest move for Santana to make was to cut her losses and dump Brittany before something else happened and she ended up in hospital. However, the Latina was stubbornly refusing to do anything of the sort, merely squeezing on to Brittany's hand so hard they could feel bones grind together whenever the blonde brought it up. She wasn't too sure how to feel about that- On one hand, she wanted to keep Santana safe. Two _incidents_ spanning just over a week wasn't anywhere near the sense of the word. On the other, she couldn't help but feel more and more smitten with the other woman as time went on. It wasn't _love_- Not yet, anyway, but it felt pretty damn close to it.

"I'm sorry," Brittany whispered miserably yet again, shoulders slumping even more after Santana had chucked the concealer away with a huff of frustration.

"Britt," Santana started carefully, "Have you ever considered seeing a psychologist?"

"A what?" Brittany asked, confused. "I thought we were dating, and you're a doctor in training?"

Biting back her instinctive response of 'sex isn't dating' because yeah, what she was doing with Brittany definitely constituted as _dating_, Santana shook her head. "No, like, a shrink. To talk about your sleeping problems."

"They're just dreams, Santana." Brittany replied quietly, "Bad dreams. I was told it's normal and it would take time for me to become a climate to being back home."

"Do you mean acclimatise?" Santana asked almost absently, hissing as she pressed down on the swelling around her eye.

"Same thing- You could try putting a steak on your eye," The blonde suggested, becoming just that little bit more animated. "Or a bag of peas."

"Or ice cream, then you could lick it off." Leering, Santana turned and nuzzled into Brittany, who had stood up to wrap her arms around the shorter girl's form.

Brittany frowned, tightening her hold just a little. "I don't think I want to lick your eye, that's gross." Then she grinned. "But I'll totally lick ice cream off anywhere else on you."

It sounded like a pretty good deal, so Santana tossed her makeup bag aside and dragged Brittany back to her bedroom, the two of them falling on the mattress and completely foregoing the ice cream completely. Three hours was plenty of time for them to get it on several times over and still be on time.

}{}{}{

They were late. They were late and, this little meeting of friends wasn't going as well as it should have.

After their shower, when Santana had been drying her hair off in the bathroom, Brittany had changed into a crisp and formal white shirt complete with a tie and dark blue pants, pulling her hair back into a tight ponytail and pinning her fringe up. A navy blazer had been laid out on the bed and for one inconsequential second, Santana wondered where the hell this getup had come from. To say that Santana had been surprised would have been an understatement. She couldn't explain it, but when she stepped back into her room in just a towel and Brittany turned to face her, the taller woman just... Didn't seem like Brittany. The clothes, the hairstyle, the _expression_- Even her familiar blue eyes had seemed to belong to someone else.

She'd stood there for a few moments silently gaping at Brittany before the blonde fidgeted and looked down shyly at her attire, breaking their gaze. Mentally kicking herself into motion, Santana padded over to the taller girl and pulled her head down via tie (Santana decided right then and there that she really fucking loved ties), slanting her lips over Brittany's. As odd and out of place as the ex-soldier's clothes were, she couldn't deny that this Brittany looked bangin'.

But that was beside the point.

"What're you wearing?" She murmured, unwilling to tear herself away from Brittany's embrace. Or to let go of the tie.

"Clothes," Came the muffled reply.

Santana laughed, drawing back slightly. "No, I mean, why are you wearing such formal clothes? We're just going to hang out in Rachel's dads' basement. Order some pizza, talk. Nothing fancy."

Brittany looked down, her nose scrunching up slightly. "I'm going to be meeting your friends for the first time ever, though. I want them to like me."

Tilting her head to the side, Santana squinted before running her fingers through Brittany's hair, undoing the ponytail and pulling out the pins. Brittany's sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and pushed up slightly, the top three buttons of her shirt was undone and the bottom pulled out from her pants. From within her closet, Santana emerged with a smug grin and a pair of rainbow coloured suspenders. From the delighted smile spreading across Brittany's face, Santana took it to mean that the blonde approved.

She refused to answer Brittany's inquiry as to why she even owned a pair of rainbow suspenders. Or, for that matter, a pair of combat boots when the Latina had explained to Brittany just a few days ago, in no uncertain terms, why she did not like going on nature walks. Why she owned a pair of well worn boots was a mystery.

Or maybe just very, very lesbian of her. Brittany couldn't help but grin widely at Santana, one eyebrow raised.

Now Brittany didn't look like someone who was going off for a business meeting, but instead seemed as though she had just emerged from one to head to a pride parade. Regardless, she still looked extremely hot. The suspenders made Santana smirk as she curled one finger around a strap, pulling it out slightly before letting go.

Blue eyes darkened considerably before Santana found herself backed against a wall, arms caging her in and Brittany's hips rolling into hers as they kissed feverishly, Santana's hands bunching and twisting at the suspenders. Nimble fingers worked at the towel between them, loosening the knot and-

To Brittany's bewilderment, Santana pushed her back a little, holding up the towel and shaking her head.

"We're going to be late- Trust me, you _don't_ want to be late to an event that Rachel Berry is hosting- and I still haven't changed yet. Or fixed this, even." Here, she gestured to her face.

Gently, Brittany ran a finger over the bruise, her expression twisting. "You're beautiful," She told the shorter girl almost wistfully, "I'm sorry for spoiling you to the point that you think you need fixing."

That was how Santana found herself devoid of makeup at the foot of Rachel Berry's basement stairs, flushing darker as everyone gaped at her face. Brittany was a few steps behind her, having taken some time to openly stare at the creepy portrait. She had been pretty certain it was staring at her.

"What the hell happened to your face, Lopez?" Quinn scuttled closer, squinting at the bruise and shaking her head. Santana scowled back. When the hell had she become such a mother hen?

"A door decided it didn't like my face," She deadpanned, though everyone's fickle attentions had shifted to the taller blonde behind her. Even without looking, Santana could feel Brittany shifting, twisting her hands together nervously as everyone in the room looked her over curiously. Turning, Santana took Brittany's hands in her own, squeezing them reassuringly.

"This is Brittany," She announced, "She's my gir-"

"I wasn't aware that significant others were invited to this gathering," Kurt made his way over, stretching his hand out to Brittany, "Or I would have found a date too. Hi. Kurt Hummel." He hummed in deliberation as his gaze travelled over what Brittany was wearing. "You must mean something to Satan, if she's letting you borrow her clothes. I'd recognize those boots anywhere. _And_ the suspenders- Santana Lopez, how dare you not wear them yourself? After all the trouble I went through procuring them for you!

"You do look fetching in them, though," Kurt assured Brittany with a grin.

The blonde returned his wide smile. "She likes me in her clothes," She confided, "Though they're kind of small for me." A thoughtful look appeared on her face as she mused, "Maybe that's why she likes me wearing them..."

"Fancy that," Kurt crowed with unabashed delight and glee, "Santana Lopez, a regular softy!"

Santana pointed at him before curling her fingers in to make a fist. "I can still punch your face in, Hummel," She threatened.

"It looks like you are the one who got your face punched in, Santana," Quinn broke in with her best unimpressed face.

"Not surprising, I'm sure there are a lot of people who want to punch her face in." A heavyset woman snarked from a corner.

Rachel nodded, smiling slightly. Then her smile faded and she crinkled her nose as she said thoughtfully, "Though, not as much since she embraced the Sapphic charm. I did want to punch her face in before she did, though, for contaminating all my potential suito-"

"Okay first off, stop saying 'punch your face in'. Get your own damn words," Santana glowered, causing a few people to snort a laugh. "Secondly, I can still take your walrus ass down, Zizes." The touch of Brittany's hand on the small of her back calmed her down slightly, though she couldn't help the animosity she felt towards the other woman.

"Who's that?" Brittany whispered into her ear. Lauren hadn't been in the picture, nor had she written anything on the back of it.

"Lauren Zizes. Kurt's replacement in the Glee Club and she's as fucking huge as ever. Puck went through this mistake period when he actually chased and wanted in on _that_." Santana gagged. "That still causes me to choke up a little bit of bile." Narrowing her eyes, Santana punched a fist up and slapped her bicep with her other hand, effectively flipping the other woman off.

Turning her back on Lauren, Santana started pointing out the other occupants of the room even though Brittany could name them all. When their name was mentioned, they gave the blonde a smile and a wave. So far, just over half of the original Glee Club was present- Rachel, Quinn, Kurt, Finn, Mercedes, Sam and Lauren. The rest were running late for whatever reason, causing Rachel to mutter peevishly to Quinn about the importance of being punctual.

Brittany stuck close to Santana at first, chatting politely to various people who came up before Kurt and Quinn couldn't hold back anymore, swooping in and dragging Santana off whilst shooting Brittany apologetic looks. Rachel and Mercedes joined them, leaving the girl standing awkwardly off to the side, warily eyeing Lauren who was making no attempt to interact with anyone (or anything) other than a box of Twinkies she held. The rate at which she devoured them was just that little bit scary. The only others in the room were Sam and Finn, so Brittany sidled up to them, offering the two a bright smile when she realized that they were discussing video games.

Or, more specifically, all of the instalments of Left 4 Dead. _This_ she knew how to handle.

}{}{}{

"Is she why you've been MIA for the past few weeks?" Quinn hissed, finally letting go of Santana to cross her arms. "Bitch. Who is she, anyway? And what the hell happened to your eye?"

"You just trippin' all up my face cuz I be tapping that," Santana replied absently, watching as Brittany started up a conversation with Finn and Sam. "The bruise is an accident. You were talking to her for like, ten minutes. Why couldn't you have asked her?"

"It looks like your face tripped and fell," Rachel mused, before shrinking back slightly when Santana glared. "Right, sorry."

"Come on girl, spill. We couldn't ask her because it would be rude and we didn't want to assume. The last time we met-" They all paused awkwardly for a moment, since the last time all of them had been together was at Noah Puckerman's funeral and no one felt comfortable bringing that up yet, "- you said you weren't dating anyone. Where did you meet her?"

"Not to mention that she's wearing your boots. The same ones you refused to let me touch, by the way," Quinn flicked Santana's forehead before crossing her arms once more.

"And the suspenders," Rachel chirped, smiling slightly.

"_And_ the suspenders," Kurt nodded in agreement, one eyebrow lifting higher.

"So that's two items of clothing that you let her borrow. I seem to remember Santana Lopez has having a 'what's mine is mine and what's yours is also mine' mindset," Quinn teased. She and Kurt now sported matching expressions.

Santana just stared at the lot of them, her hands fisted exasperatedly on her hips. When it didn't seem as though she was inclined to say anything, Mercedes gave her the stink eye and reached out to jab a finger to her ribs. Before her hand came anywhere near, Santana had grabbed at Mercedes' wrist and shooed it away. "Just making sure you all were done talking," She snarked.

"She's Brittany Pierce-"

"Britney Spears?" Kurt asked, looking over at the tall blonde doubtfully.

"Will you shut up and let me talk?" Santana growled, and when the man raised his hands palm up and shrugged, she took an aggrieved breath. "Brittany Pierce. Brittany. Pierce- Britt S. Pierce? I met her at the beginning of summer, my first week back here."

Rachel was the first to get it, her expression clearing. "What's she doing here in Lima? If I recall correctly, she wasn't present at Noah's funeral." Her voice cracked a little on the last two words, but it held steady.

"Britt Pierce?" Quinn echoed a little belatedly, exchanging a confused look with Mercedes.

Then light blinked on for Kurt and he let out a little squeal. "You mean B?" He took a moment to pull a face at Puck's very uncreative name for Brittany. "The one with awesome legs but was as gay as a unicorn meaning that Puck had absolutely no chance with her?" When Santana gaped at him, he shrugged. "He and Finn were having a...conversation. I happened to be in the same room."

"Who?" Mercedes asked impatiently, tapping her fingers against Kurt's arm to get his attention.

"Oh for-" Rolling his eyes, Kurt pulled out his phone and began tapping away furiously at it. Within seconds, a picture of a laughing Brittany dressed in a grey shirt, camo pants and dribbling an orange basketball filled the screen. "Blonde army girl who we thought Puck was diddling for a while."

"What the-" Santana lunged for the phone, nearly stumbling and faceplanting when Kurt dodged clumsily. "How the fuck have I not seen this before? Why the flaming _hell_ do you have a picture of Britts on your phone?"

"If you kept up with your facebook you would have seen when Puck posted it," Kurt informed her before flipping his hand in a clear 'shoo' gesture, turning back to discuss Brittany with the rest of the group. Santana could only stand there, fuming, as her friends talked about her girlfriend. ...Girlfriend. Saying that Brittany was her girlfriend (even only acknowledging it in her mind) caused Santana to grin slightly, pleased.

* * *

"_What are we?" Santana suddenly asked, scruffing the toe of her shoe against the sidewalk as they made their way to Rachel's house._

_Brittany looked taken aback, and a little baffled. "We're girl humans?" She hazarded a guess after a slight pause._

"_No, as in, us." Santana gestured between the two of them, "What are we doing?"_

"_Walking to Rachel Berry's house?"_

"_No! Like, how do I introduce you to people?" There were times when Brittany's obtuseness was adorable. But when Santana was feeling all nervous and fluttery, she didn't find it cute at all. Though she was fully prepared to forget her question when Brittany suddenly dropped down onto a bench, pulling Santana to straddle her lap with one leg on either side of the blonde's hips._

"_Of course we're dating, silly," Brittany informed her affectionately, pressing a kiss to Santana's parted lips. The brunette ran her fingers through long blonde hair, pulling the other woman's head back gently so that she could tilt her head down and scrape her teeth down the length of a smooth, pale neck._

_A loud whistle broke the two apart, the culprit driving past in a snazzy sports car. Santana rolled her eyes and gave them the finger, muttering under her breath. "Dick." Taking a breath, she pressed on, repeating her unanswered question. "So, how do I introduce you to people?"_

_Brittany shrugged, seemingly not realizing the full importance of the issue at hand. "Brittany Pierce, Santana Lopez's girlfriend."_

_Santana grinned. "So I'm just magically your girlfriend?"_

_Tilting her head to the side, Brittany regarded the dark haired woman curiously. "Yeah," She confirmed with a nod, "We went out many times and I had sex with you more than once. I'm your girlfriend, and you're mine."_

"_Yours?" One dark eyebrow rose._

"_Mine," Brittany reiterated with a wide smile, "And I'm yours."_

* * *

"What's her relation to Noah?" Rachel asked, tilting her head and closing one eye to look at the picture, then at the real deal. "It doesn't really look like her," She decided, "In appearance, yes, they are rather similar. However, she seems to have aged in the..." After taking a moment to check, she continued, "Two years since this picture was taken."

"It's her," Santana snapped, "And she was in Puck's squad. She was in a _war_, Berry. Wars tend to knock naivety out of people, as does _time_."

"What makes you such an expert, Pamela Anderson? And I thought everyone in Puck's squad or unit or whatever it's called got taken out in a blast- How is she alive?" Santana stiffened when she heard Lauren honk in that annoying elephant-seal voice of hers- why the hell was she standing so close to Santana? And when did Tina, Artie _and_ Mike get here?

...Why was _everyone_ in the room congregating around Kurt and his phone?

"Maybe because I'm actually studying in school instead of just sitting on others and slowly suffocating them with lipids, you obese blue whale," She spat out in reply. A placating hand from Rachel and Sam holding on tightly to Santana's shoulder stopped her from lunging forward and scalping the other woman, and Finn had conveniently (read: cluelessly) stepped between the two bristling girls.

Lips peeling back in distaste, Santana backed away, squirming out from the mass of bodies to make her way to where Brittany was standing. The blonde was watching everyone stare at her and at the little device in Kurt's hands, their looks ranging anywhere from curious to judgemental to confused. Her arms wrapped around herself as though the action could shield her from them and she turned away, leaning into Santana when the Latina came up and pressed herself to Brittany's front. In silence, they watched Lauren clean her glasses whilst glaring at Brittany (or her target might've been Santana, they couldn't really tell); saw Finn's massively broad shoulders slump a little when he caught on to what the rest were discussing; witnessed Quinn turn and hide her face in Rachel's neck, hugging her own stomach almost protectively.

"Your friends are going to hate me," Brittany finally broke the silence, dropping her chin down on Santana's shoulder and hugging the shorter woman tightly from behind. It had become a sob-fest over there, with Quinn silently but openly crying, Rachel trying to comfort her despite her own red rimmed eyes. Kurt dabbed at his eyes with a large handkerchief, the other end of which Mercedes was using to wipe her face.

(It was a little gross, and didn't seem terribly hygienic.)

"What? Why?"

"Because I lived and Noah died," Brittany replied a little sadly. When a figure in a wheelchair rolled up to them, she managed a slightly cheerful "Hi Artie!", though she didn't miss the way Santana tensed up in her arms.

"Hey, Brittany." Artie's expression was open and friendly as he looked at the blonde, though it noticeably chilled when his gaze moved to Santana, then down to where Brittany's arms were wrapped around the Latina's abdomen. "Santana."

"Robodouche." Santana didn't spare him much of a glance, turning around in Brittany's embrace and pressing their lips together firmly. Only a moment later, after Artie had huffed and wheeled himself away, did Santana pull away and demand, "How'd you know him?"

"I saw him here on my first night in Lima," Brittany explained. "He gave me directions to the inn and said that if I was going to be in Lima for a while, just look for him at the pharmacy."

"Bastard," Santana mumbled against Brittany's collarbone, her arms tightening possessively around the blonde's waist.

"Why don't you like him?" Brittany asked, genuinely curious.

"Stole a girlfriend from me," Santana replied curtly.

"Ah." They stood together in silence for a few moments before Brittany fidgeted, getting uneasy from all the stares she was receiving. "San?" She finally muttered into the brunette's ear, shifting from side to side. At Santana's inquiring grunt, she said softly, "Maybe I should leave."

"What? Why?"

"Lauren looks really angry and no one looks particularly friendly."

Getting more and more pissed off, Santana disengaged and spun around to face the gawking people. "The fuck is up with all of you?" She snarled irritably, one arm still resting around Brittany's waist. "Get a fucking life and stop ogling my girlfriend and I."

Brittany distinctly heard Kurt murmur "See? I told you they were together." and Rachel give him a begrudging nod.

"You were in the army?" Sam flinched and blurted out when Lauren made to slam an elbow into his ribs. "The same unit as Puck?

When Santana squeezed her waist reassuringly, Brittany took a breath and nodded.

"You bore witness, then, to what happened the day he died?" Rachel asked, brows furrowed.

"I-" Confused, Brittany looked down at Santana, who gave her a nod. "I- I think so?"

"It was a simple yes or no question, Blondie. There is no third option." Brittany was starting to really dislike this Lauren chick.

Straightening up military style, Brittany clasped her hands behind her back and intoned, "I saw Noah die, yes."

"You _saw_ him die? Why the hell were you just standing by and _watching_ instead of helping him out?" Lauren bit out, fists clenching at her sides. Slowly, the rest of the ex-glee clubbers were inching away from her, watching the exchange with widening eyes.

"Back off, lardass." Santana snapped, her own hands balling into fists as she took one step forward.

Lauren was unimpressed. "How about you fuck off, Beverly Hills Chihuahua, and let Army Barbie answer for herself?"

}{}{}{

In the background, Kurt muttered, "I don't even know what's going on anymore. When did this become the Santana and Lauren show?"

"Satan and Hulk _showdown_, more like," Sam replied lowly.

"Five on Satan," Mercedes whispered, and Kurt gave a thumbs up.

"What?" Rachel hissed, "You can't bet on one of them getting hurt! What if they sustain grievous injury? We could get arrested!"

Artie let out a snort. "I gotta get in on this. Twenty on Lauren kicking Santana's ass five days from Sunday, yo."

"It's Thursday..." Finn blinked, confused.

Kurt patted his shoulder consolingly. "Yes it is, Finn. How about you and Sam go stand there and make sure no one gets really hurt?"

Sam nodded, calling out a soft "Ten on Santana" before he and Finn snuck towards where Brittany was.

A few seconds later, Quinn finally spoke up. "Rachel, Mike and I are sharing a bet- Seventy five on Brittany jumping in and taking Lauren down." The Asian boy shrugged apologetically at Artie, who was glaring at him with the 'what the fuck happened to bros before hos' expression.

"She was in the army," He defended himself, "If anyone can take Lauren down, it'd be her."

Tina squinted at Brittany. "But she's so... _Small_, compared to Lauren. Plus, Lauren totally kicked Santana's ass around the hallways back in junior year. Ten on Lauren taking both Brittany and Santana down."

Artie grinned at his ex, pleased. "I like the way you think, Tina."

"Shh!" Rachel flapped her arms in their general direction to quiet them, "It's about to start! Get ready to lose all of your money, f- mmph!"

Quinn had clapped a hand over Rachel's mouth, shooting her a slightly annoyed look.

"Right. Sorry." Apologetic, Rachel fell silent as all of them turned their full attentions back to the scene at hand.

}{}{}{

"Santana," Brittany called her girlfriend's name softly, stopping her from advancing on a smirking Lauren. A Lauren who was cracking her knuckles. Sure, Santana had taken self-defence classes when she was younger, but Santana was _tiny_ compared to Lauren. _Tiny_. Midget sized. She kept insisting that she was five foot six, but Brittany would bet anything that she was between the five foot four and five foot five range, and weighing in at barely a hundred and five pounds- If even that. See why she didn't want Santana taking someone who had to be at least three times her weight on?

"She's insulting you, Britt," Santana insisted, eyes burning dark as she glared, "I have to go kick her ass. I have to. For you."

To be completely honest, what Santana said caused Brittany to swoon a little inside. She had never really pictured Santana as a White Knight type, and the unexpectedness of it all caused the blonde to falter slightly. Taking her chance, the Latina moved even closer towards Lauren. Someone tapping on her back distracted Brittany and caused her to turn around and stare blankly at Finn, who gave her a smile. When she looked back, she was in time to see Lauren- despite having _both_ Sam and Mike attempting to hold her back- shove Santana's shoulder with enough force to send the smaller woman sprawling. Brittany felt as though something (her heart, most probably) was lodged in her throat, fear coursing through her as she made to run forward to Santana, but a large hand slammed down on her shoulder.

Reacting purely on instinct, Brittany reached back and grabbed the offending hand with both of hers, twisting his wrist outward even as she braced her legs and leaned back a little before jerking forward suddenly, yanking at Finn's arm. The harsh movement tipped Finn off balance (not that that was particularly hard to do at any given time), and Brittany bent almost double at the waist as she heaved, thigh muscles straining to keep her standing as she sent Finn flying over her head.

She hadn't meant to do that, really. All Brittany had wanted to do was to go check on her girlfriend- Who, for that matter, was openly gawking at her, as were the rest of those in attendance. Paying them no mind, Brittany rushed over to Santana, dropping to her knees beside the Latina and cradling a dark haired head tenderly between her hands.

Hands that had only just managed to throw a six foot more giant into Lauren, causing a whole domino effect, resulting in Sam, Mike, Finn and Lauren flat on the ground in a tangle of limbs- and not in a sexy way-, pained groans being emitted by one, if not all, of them. But Brittany didn't spare them a second glance.

"Are you okay?" She asked worriedly, fingers running lightly over every inch of Santana's torso, "Are you hurt? I'm sorry I let you get hurt, do I need to carry you home, can you walk? I am so, so sorry Santan-"

Her disjointed rambles were cut off when Santana's lips smothered hers.

"That was really hot, actually," Santana told her when she finally pulled back, "Getting thrown on my ass is worth if I get to see you come to my rescue."

"Yeah?" Brittany beamed, laying a few more kisses along Santana's jaw line.

"Yeah, definitely." Tossing a glance over her shoulder, Santana smirked when she saw Lauren still on the ground, the rest of the ex glee members either fussing around the three innocent boys or trying to discretely exchange money (what the fuck?) in a corner. Rolling her eyes, Santana got to her feet, wincing a little, and held her hand out to Brittany. "What do you say we get out of here and I show you just how hot I found it?"

Taking Santana's hand and allowing herself to be hauled upright, Brittany scrunched her brows. "But your friends...?"

"Screw them, my girlfriend just took down Chunky Hippo, Jolly Green Giant, Ken and Boneless Chicken in a single move, and I wants to get my mack on." When Santana's warm palms slid teasingly under Brittany's shirt and palmed her breasts over her bra, the two of them fair near ran up the stairs and up the door.

But Santana's home was quite a walk away, so the Latina snagged Brittany's wrist and dragged her into a bathroom before locking the door securely. Once that was done, she backed Brittany up into a wall and began placing hot, open mouthed kisses along her lips, moving down her jaw and nipping her neck before laving the spots with her tongue. The suspenders were shoved off Brittany's shoulders and down her arms, her fingers worked on the buttons of the blonde's shirt and impatiently pushing her bra up, teeth scraping over a protruding collarbone before dipping her head to take a hardening nipple into her mouth.

When her pants and underwear was down around her ankles and Santana was kneeling before her, Brittany let out a whimpering groan, hands flailing about before weaving themselves into thick, black locks, her nails scratching gently across Santana's scalp.

No one noticed their absence until a few moments had passed, and money had been exchanged.

A triumphant Rachel did a victory shimmy before she froze. "Where're Santana and Brittany?"

Quinn thumbed through the wad of bills in her hands- Why were most of it ones, were her friends wanting to head to a strip club or something?-, a smug grin on her face. She barely looked up as she answered, "Probably defiling your bed."

Rachel was horrified.

* * *

**Continued Author's Note;; There's going to be part 2 for the reunion. I had a plan for this chapter but...I kind of skipped down a detour.**

**As always, thank you for reading and please do tell me what you think!Till next time~!  
**


	15. Chapter 15

**Title:** God Knows Even Angels Fall  
**Pairing: **Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** PG-13 this chapter.  
**Summary: **AU. Finished with her tour, Brittany's back in the States with an obligation to fulfil. She isn't too sure how to go about it, or if she even wants to- Especially once she gets to know Santana.  
**Warnings**: Character death from 1st chapter**  
Spoilers:** Bits and pieces from everywhere, so to be safe, up to current episodes.  
**Word Count: **3500~

**Author's Note;; Look, an update in 24 hours! Your reviews inspired me so here is your reward. ...**_**your eternal reward**_**. Okay nerdy moment over.**

**That last chapter was only half the reunion, so here's the...'other half'. Kind of but not really. That would have been like, Reunion Part 1 and this is Reunion Part 2A. There's a Part2B and very possibly a part 3. Part 1 was basically the filler.**

**I'm a little insecure about this chapter because it deals with feelings and I'm not too good at those. Feedback would be awesome.**

**Hope you like it, enjoy reading! All reviews will be addressed in the next chapter. **

**Stay awesome and keep commenting! xx**

* * *

If this had been anyone else's bathroom but Rachel Berry's, Santana mused contentedly while stroking the pad of her index finger along Brittany's arm, she would _not_ be slumped on the counter half naked with just the wall keeping her upright, and Brittany's forehead pressed on her shoulder as the two tried to catch their breath. And even then, she felt equal parts dirty and accomplished. Wouldn't Rachel just _love_ knowing that her bathroom had been thoroughly christened?

Okay, maybe she felt more smug than anything.

Even after their heart rates slowed and their breathing evened out, the two stayed comfortably in that position for a few more minutes before Brittany pulled away to brace her hands on either sides of Santana's hips and straightened up on legs that complained at having to take her full weight again. The words _'I love you' _swirled around her mind, though they were accompanied by numerous question marks. It had been barely four _weeks_ since she set foot in Lima- Less than _one month_, for goodness sake. While that phrase could be loosely flung around by some people, for Brittany it held actual weight. She didn't want to say it only to either get shot down or left behind or worse, end up finding out that she didn't fully mean it. That would be a _disaster._

"You're wonderful," She sought out the other woman's eyes and said instead, lips quirking up in a smile when Santana ducked her head and averted her gaze.

"There isn't any doubt of _that_," Santana retorted with a smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes, before it disappeared as she reached out to cup Brittany's cheek. Her voice was soft as she breathed, "You're gorgeous."

"You're more," Brittany countered immediately with a lazy grin, absolutely refusing to let Santana have the last word in this game of exchanging sincere compliments. Santana cottoned on quickly, raising her hands and shrugging before sliding her arms around Brittany's neck and pressing a light kiss to the corner of her mouth.

Pulling back, Santana seemed to be searching through the blonde's eyes before nodding resolutely to herself. "Brittany," She began seriously, "I-"

An obnoxious trilling of a mobile phone interrupted her, and Santana scowled. "Fuck." Hopping off the counter, she passed Brittany her discarded pants as she dug around her handbag for her phone, pulling it out to read the message. Brittany watched her curiously as she rearranged her clothes and snapped the suspenders back on her shoulders, wondering what the Latina had been about to say before she got cut off, and also what the text read.

Pulling her own clothes back on, Santana dropped her phone then turned to Brittany and kissed her again, gentle and chaste. "Quinn wants to talk to me before we go- I'll just go down and be right back, okay? Stay up here. Then we can get food- I'm craving a burger." Brittany nodded, pressing their cheeks together before letting Santana go, watching as she rinsed her hands and left with a "Be right back real quick."

Because she felt kind of bad for defiling someone's bathroom like that, Brittany did her best to wipe off the counter and mirror before leaving and wandering to the top of the stairs, not going down a few steps to take a closer look at the creepy portrait though she really wanted to. She had a feeling that if she did, Santana was going to have to put in quite a bit of effort in dragging her away. She would have set up camp in front of it, watching it intently to ensure that it didn't actually move.

A sudden bark of _"Stop that!"_ in Santana's voice caused her to turn around quickly, actually taking one step down before she managed to stop herself. Santana had told her to remain on the upper level, so despite wanting to dash down to her side, Brittany stayed put. There was complete silence for a bit before a masculine (debateable, really) voice whined, _"Ow, motherff-!"_ People started talking again after that, lowly, which meant Brittany could only catch a gentle buzzing before someone roared, _"Puck is dead, Lopez!"._

Torn, Brittany fidgeted on the top step before cautiously taking one down and bending her knees to sit and listen for a bit, closing her eyes as she did so. A familiar hand came down to lie still on her shoulder and Brittany let out a sigh, leaning sideways to rest against the wall. The hand moved to curve loosely along her waist as they sat side by side, quietly revelling in each other's presence.

"_What the fuck are you doing, Lopez?" _The same roaring voice filled their ears. _"She basically admitted that she could have saved Puck, but I don't see him around and dandy, do you?"_ Puck stiffened beside her. If it hadn't been for the first part of that sentence, Brittany would have grinned.

More muffled buzzing filled their ears, along with sharp cries of:

"_It's her fault he's dead!"_

"_She likes ducks, Santana! _Ducks_!"_

"_If it weren't for her Noah would be alive!"_

"_Fucking up everything for a summer's worth of rolling in the hay"_

"_Summer doesn't last forever"_

Each one got Brittany feeling more and more despondent and the man beside her more and more tense. Santana and Puck's _friends_ didn't dislike her- They _hated_ her. Worse, they _blamed_ her. It was only when Santana let out a shrieking "_I know that!"_ did Brittany get up and walk out the front door, shutting it softly behind Puck. She couldn't listen anymore.

The two wandered around aimlessly for awhile, passing by the Puckerman's- _"This was like, the Jew street. Jacob lived just a few doors down." _Puck pulled a face. _"JewBabe didn't like that too much." _Brittany didn't answer.

Fifteen minutes in, Brittany's pocket chirped repeatedly. Pulling out her mobile phone, Brittany stared at it before pressing the red button. Puck glanced sideways at her, but opted to stay silent for a while. Almost instantly, though, it chirped again. And Brittany cut the call off again. And again. Then it let out a beep, signalling a new message from Santana.

_Where did you go?_

With a sigh, Brittany pocketed the phone again. She needed to sit somewhere and just think. And talk to Puck.

}{}{}{

"_I'm sorry you had to hear all that,"_ Puck finally broke the silence. He sat cross-legged upon the top of his gravestone, a worried look on his face as he stared at a seemingly comatose Brittany. _"Zizes wasn't always like that."_

The woman was a _cow_, but Brittany didn't voice that thought aloud. Didn't mean that he didn't hear, however.

"_Yeah. She was way harsh."_ When Brittany didn't answer, they settled into an uneasy silence once again. He never was one for just sitting there quietly- Especially now that he could read her mind-, so it barely took two minutes before he spoke again. _"I did tell you to just go, but you stayed. Not that that's bad or nothing. I'm just sayin', I did tell you to go."_

"You're an asshole," Brittany responded hollowly, "You _sent_ me here."

"_Just to give my mum the letters!" _He defended, "_Not stick around and fall in love with Santana Lopez!"_

"You sent me here!" Brittany repeated more sharply, the second part of what he said flying over her head. "You sent me here and I met Santana _here-_" She gestured around the cemetery, "Right _here_, so it's your fault!"

"_I told you to leave!"_ Puck retorted, uncrossing his legs and bracing them on the front of the stone, "_You were supposed to leave after like, a day, not end up staying here and _fucking_ my best friend! You were supposed to leave,"_ He repeated more quietly this time, his fists clenching and unclenching, "_Lima isn't for you. It's a shit town that sucks you in even after you've gotten out. You have to be a special brand of crazy to stay here when you've the option to leave and never come back. We have family here; we're always going to be tied to this place._

"_You were supposed to leave before you got tied down too."_

"I like Santana," Brittany muttered rebelliously. This was like déjà vu.

"_Yeah, duh, I got that much. And it's cool; she totally likes you back. You make her happy. Really happy," _Puck said wistfully, running a hand over his short hair before he squared his shoulders, hazel eyes glinting. "_But how much does she like you back?"_

"What?" Brittany jerked, tilting her head back to look up at the man. "Enough. She likes me back enough- We're dating, she's my girlfriend."

"_But you don't know for sure how much she likes you?"_ Puck asked again.

"She likes me enough!" Brittany barked in response, getting more and more irate. She had left the house to go somewhere and think, _not_ to get drilled on her level of affection for Santana and vice versa. Santana liked her back enough for them to work; enough for Brittany to talk to her a little bit about what being in the army was like. Sure, she still skirted along the topic of what happened the day Puck had died, but she still _talked_.

"_But you don't know how much,_" Puck pounded that in relentlessly, face set and serious. "_What's gonna happen once summer is over?"_

The answer was simple enough- Brittany would go with Santana. She wasn't totally sure what she would do yet, but she would find something.

Because Santana was- _Is_, she corrected herself-,worth it.

But Puck wasn't letting up. "_Does San know that?"_ And he got her there. They hadn't talked about it because there was still a month and a half of summer left- And they'd only _just_ met a month ago-, and plenty of time left to talk about it.

"_Some people get married in weeks because they just _know_,"_ Puck remarked infuriatingly, _"What are you even gonna do in San Francisco?"_

Brittany hesitated, because she honestly didn't know. Perhaps back to school, or... Something. Honestly, the army was all she knew, but she was pretty fucking adamant that she wasn't reenlisting. The army may have comprised of her whole adult life once she graduated from high school, but she wasn't all that fond of war. And the world really, _really_ liked war.

"_It wasn't all that bad. Was a life. Made money, got to see the world._" A frown. "_Well... Another country anyway."_ Puck slid off the stone and onto the ground next to Brittany, leaning back, closing his eyes and crossing his arms behind his head. Then he cracked one eyelid open to peer sneakily at Brittany. "_Are you turned on by my guns?_"

If it were any other time and if he hadn't been saying all that before, Brittany would have cracked a grin and giggled. But now she was pissed and angry and wanting to introduce her fist to his face, so his lame attempt at a joke wasn't amusing at all. "No," Was her short and curt reply.

"_Pity,"_ He responded, stretching. _"There's no one else around, and Little Puckerone hasn't gotten any action in a while."_ He leered at Brittany and made a crude wrist jerk motion. "_Except for this."_

"Go away, Noah," She replied tiredly, "Shut up or go away or I'm going to kill _you_ and you get to be the first ghost to die."

Throughout the whole time- Perhaps an hour or so had elapsed by this point-, her phone had kept ringing and beeping. So far she had amassed nine texts and fourteen missed calls, all of which were from Santana. Between Puck and the blasted device, she hadn't been able to think properly. All she wanted to do was _think_, why couldn't anyone leave her alone?

"'_cause I've nothing better to do and San's your _girlfriend_,"_ Puck shrugged just as the phone rang again.

With a cry, Brittany surged to her knees and flung the phone away from her, bracing her hands on Puck's tombstone and watching the little device sail away and break open on someone else's stone. Oops. But at least it had stopped making noises.

Panting despite having done nothing exertive, Brittany slid back down and cradled her head in her hands. Puck was unimpressed.

"_I could have helped you switch that off."_

"Noah!" Brittany shot to her feet, blue eyes all kinds of crazy. "Shut up shut up _shut up_!"

He held his hands up defensively and mimed a zipping motion across his lips, watching as she warily settled back down. Brittany breathed heavily into her palms as she tried to calm her whirring mind. She _liked_ Santana. Santana _liked_ her. That was all that was really needed- Why the hell had Puck asked all those questions and tried to make her doubt them? The future was the future- There was time yet for her to sort that out. Plus, Brittany had never been one to plan out every step of her life. She went with the flow and took each day at a time, which was basically how she had ended up joining the army right out of high school and was how she found herself in Lima just a couple of days after landing back in the States. Just because her closest friend from the military had asked her to. Things with Santana were _good_.

"I like Santana," Brittany finally whispered, "She's someone special. Someone specials don't come around often, Noah. I can't just leave and go h-" She bit off the word _'home'_, because honestly, she was pretty sure she didn't have one anymore. "I can't just leave," She finally settled on gamely.

There was a pause. _"Yeah," _Puck finally replied, voice low. _"Preach."_

Straightening, Brittany rubbed her eyes then tilted her head curiously. The man didn't answer her questioning gaze, choosing instead to turn and look away and Brittany, recognizing that he didn't want to talk, didn't push for an answer. Though he would have deserved the prying, the doubting bastard.

"Noah," Brittany started cautiously, not really sure how to phrase her question without coming off as callous or rude. "I- It's.. Do-"

He cut her off. "_No,_" He sighed, _"I don't blame you. Fault's not at all yours, babe. You couldn't have done anything._" He managed a self-deprecating and mirthless smile. "_I was there too, remember? The Gleeks were just needing a scapegoat or somethin', and you were there. I'm sorry." _And they lapsed into silence again, with the both of them stewing in their own thoughts.

They hadn't been sitting there for long- Ten minutes at the most-, when Puck sat up and looked around before rolling to his feet. _"Your search and rescue team is h-"_ His words cut off when Santana called out Brittany's name and the blonde stood, looking in the direction two people were heading from.

Santana looked worried and she had been perspiring- Brittany could tell because hair was sticking to her forehead and neck. "Britt?" She reached out, and the ex-soldier didn't protest when she got pulled into a tight hug. "You okay? I thought we were going to go for food after?"

Brittany felt bad and guilty, she really did. Santana had been nothing but wonderful and _forgiving _towards her and just because she hadn't liked what she had been eavesdropping on, she _left_. Just because she hadn't had the guts to hear what Santana had to say in reply. For a soldier, Brittany could admit, she was pretty spineless.

So she merely shrugged in reply, inscrutable blue eyes flicking between Santana and the other person there aside from Puck. Quinn Fabray managed to quirk a small smile at her, one side of her mouth lifting just a little before it dropped and hazel eyes welling with unwanted tears as she looked through Puck, at the grave. Speaking of Puck...

The man was inching closer to the shorter blonde, his own hazel eyes filled with something she couldn't discern. Brittany narrowed her gaze, trying to recall what Puck had told her about the girl.

* * *

"_Who's this?" Brittany pointed her finger at one of the girls his arms were draping over in the picture that he had just gotten in the mail. Even though the photograph was small, she could tell that the girl was very pretty, especially in laughter. She was leaning forward slightly, hands cradling one of Noah's as her head looked in his direction, a huge smile gracing her features._

"_Quinn. Quinn Fabray." Puck smiled then, wistful and yearning. "My fucking hot girlfriend."_

"_She_ is_ pretty," Brittany agreed, and Puck grinned._

"_Hell yeah."_

_}{}{}{  
_

"_We had a baby together," He casually injected into conversation not long after that, and Brittany whipped around to stare, one eyebrow rising in surprise. He chuckled. "Yeah. Sophomore year. Didn't keep her though- Beth."_

"_Beth," Brittany rolled the name around in her mouth, before smiling. "That's a pretty name."_

"_You bet." She could tell that despite having brought up the subject, he wasn't really all that comfortable with it. So she switched._

"_You and Quinn stayed together, though." It wasn't so much of a statement as a question._

"_Broke up while she was pregnant. Got back together in Senior year." Puck grinned. "Going on two years in six months."_

_}{}{}{  
_

_For the past three days, Noah Puckerman had been moody and his replies clipped. She found him sitting outside the mess hall with his chin on his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Silently, Brittany sat next to him as they glanced over at the trucks and other military vehicles. It took half an hour of quiet before he spoke._

"_Quinn and I broke up."_

_And that was all he said for the rest of the time they sat there. After they stood to go, though, he had caught her hand in his and squeezed in thanks. She didn't hesitate to fling her arms around him and hug him tightly._

_They were shipped out of the United States within the week._

_}{}{}{  
_

"_We're in a war," Puck whistled. They'd been here for a year, and he was only just comprehending it._

"_Yeah," Brittany breathed out in response. That day had been long and a bit terrifying, if she was to be honest. They had had their first taste of active combat and for the first time, Brittany discharged her gun at live targets. It wasn't quite the thrill she had thought it would be, nor had she felt any of the so called glory of serving her country. Despite being the 'enemy', they had been people too. "Any regrets?"_

_Puck was silent for a few moments as he took a swing from his water bottle. Deliberately he capped it before finally replying, "Breaking up with Quinn."_

_}{}{}{  
_

"_If I die-"_

"_Why are you talking about this?" Brittany objected, clutching at Puck's arm and holding on even when he tried to tug it away._

"_I'm just saying. Just in case." He smiled and ran his hand over her blonde hair affectionately. "I'm writing two letters. If I die, could you make sure my family and friends get them?"_

"Why can't you send it to them now?" Brittany asked, confused.

_Puck's voice was wry. "It's full of mushy shit I'd rather they not know I was capable of unless I was dead." He shrugged. "Love and guardian angels and forever, to my mum and sis. Quinn and Santana. That kind of mushy shit."_

_Brittany had been amused, but refrained from poking fun since he mentioned Quinn. He hadn't mentioned her in more than a year._

* * *

Shaking herself loose from the memories, Brittany looked to Santana and hugged her close, kissing her briefly on the lips. "I'm sorry. We can talk later?"

When she gestured to Quinn, Santana nodded, kissing Brittany once more before pulling away to cradle Quinn in her arms. The shorter blonde let go then, turning and pressing her eyes into Santana's shoulder, her own shaking as she tried to stay quiet. Puck stepped close, hand lifting to gently caress Quinn's cheek.

Pain for Puck flared in Brittany's chest at his expression when his hand passed through, unable to make contact.


	16. Chapter 16

**Title:** God Knows Even Angels Fall  
**Pairing: **Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** PG-13 this chapter.  
**Summary: **AU. Finished with her tour, Brittany's back in the States with an obligation to fulfil. She isn't too sure how to go about it, or if she even wants to- Especially once she gets to know Santana.  
**Warnings**: Character death from 1st chapter**  
Spoilers:** Bits and pieces from everywhere, so to be safe, up to current episodes.  
**Word Count: **5000~

**Author's Note;; Aha, I've gotten reviews and messages basically all "asdfg;l;kjhg but I wanted to know what was said by the Gleeks!1!" and frankly... They made me giggle because Part 2A was from Brittany's viewpoint and Part 2B (this one) is from Santana's. Patience, young grasshoppers! I wasn't about to leave you hanging. And aww guys, no Puck hate!**

**The end is nigh, everyone! I've got 3 more definite chapters (including this one) planned out, then maybe two more to tie up loose ends then we'll be done. Thank you for sticking it through!**

* * *

_Pulling back, Santana seemed to be searching through the blonde's eyes before nodding resolutely to herself. "Brittany," She began seriously, "I-"_

When her phone chirped, Santana could have kicked it through a wall, she was _that_ angry.

"Fuck," She muttered, before pushing lightly at Brittany and wiggling off the counter to get at her phone. Ordinarily she would just ignore it, but since everyone she usually hung out with over the summer was in this house, there was a chance that the message was from one of her parents or perhaps a professor from university. When she slid it open and saw that it was from Quinn, though, her scowl only deepened. Fuck Fabray and her abilities to pop up at the most unfortunate moments. However, the girl _was_ her best friend (title pending), and the message reeked of urgency, so she snapped her phone shut and sighed, pulling her clothes back on.

Brittany was fully clothed when Santana turned back around, and the brunette took a moment to _appreciate_ the sight of her girlfriend (_girlfriend!_) in those suspenders before pressing their lips together lightly. ""Quinn wants to talk to me before we go," She murmured, hands stroking along the back of Brittany's thighs unconsciously, "I'll just go down and be right back, okay? Stay up here. Then we can get food- I'm craving a burger."

The sides of Santana's eyes crinkled a little at that- Sex made her _hungry_, okay?- and she stood like that for a little while, her cheek pressed against Brittany's, before she pulled away to wash her hands because that was the hygienic thing to do. That, and Kurt would kick up an immense fuss if he ever found out she was in his presence with _defiled_ hands.

She hesitated by the door of the restroom, giving one last wistful glance in Brittany's direction, before her lips quirked in a crooked smile. "Be right back real quick."

Then she fled, cursing Quinn Fabray and her nonexistent sense of timing.

The sight that greeted her when she made it all the way down the stairs would have been amusing if just one particular person hadn't been there. As it was, she couldn't help the cockiness that infused her steps as she sauntered past a woozy Lauren to tap Quinn on the shoulder. The blonde turned, and Santana could pick out relief and resignation in the array of emotions that had flashed across her face.

"San!" Reaching out, Quinn grabbed for Santana's wrist and hauled herself upright before tugging the Latina to the spot she had just occupied. "Mike may have pulled something when Lauren _fell _on him, Finn's wrist hurts and we think Lauren broke her butt."

Santana could only blink at her for a few seconds before taking in a deep, calming breath. When she spoke, her voice was low and scratchy, a hairsbreadth away from kicking up a tantrum.

"Are you insinuating that you messaged me 'SOS' to get down here and play _doctor_?" She growled slowly, hands curling into fists. "And not the sexy kind of doctor- The kind where I have to put my hands on _that_?" Gesturing wildly towards Lauren, it took Santana a great deal of effort to not scream. "I was about to tell Brittany something important!"

Squeezing her eyes tight and willing her anger to dissipate, Santana sighed. "You could have gone to the goddamn _hospital_, Fabray." She muttered, even as she tossed her handbag onto a table and stared down at Mike Chang.

Man, the things she did for friends should win her the fucking Nobel Peace Prize.

}{}{}{

Mike was an ideal patient. He cooperated fully and made no inappropriate comments or girly shrieks when Santana poked at his shoulder blades just that little bit too hard. Mike was perfect. It was just his girlfriend that was driving Santana up a freaking wall.

"Stop that!" She barked, reaching out with one hand to swipe at the blonde. "You're _annoying_."

"Your _face_ is annoying," Quinn shot back half heartedly, her hands alternating between clasping together and clinging tight to Mike's as she asked inane question after inane question. The Asian boy grinned lopsidedly at Santana when he caught her rolling her eyes, and Santana managed to smile back at him. He put up with Quinn's fussing and fretting, threading their fingers together and when Santana declared him fine, stood up to sweep a still worried Quinn into a massive hug.

"Doctor Lopez says I'm fine," Santana heard him mumble into Quinn's blonde hair, "Don't worry." Hiking one arm under Quinn's behind so that he could keep her lifted off the ground properly, Mike then turned to Santana and gave her a thumbs up. "Thanks, Santana."

Santana waved it off with an airy flip of her hand. "No worries, Chang. Get your weepy woman under control, that's all I ask." Mike laughed and proceeded to do as she demanded. He was a good guy- Had always been a good guy, and was making out to seem as though he _would always_ be a good guy. In short, someone she approved of for her somewhat high strung best friend.

Because Santana wanted to stay away from Lauren as long as possibly, she turned to Finn next. The freakishly tall man was seated on a chair with Mercedes, Kurt and Rachel around him, the last of whom was beckoning rather urgently at Santana, first aid kit in hand. Santana rolled her eyes.

"Santana! There's something wrong with his wrist; Finn's complaining that it hurts and it seems to be tender and a bit swollen and-" Oh geez, Rachel was even worse of a mother hen than Quinn.

Frowning slightly, Santana looked over Finn's wrist and gently ran a finger along it before gripping on to his hand and pulling really lightly. Finn yelped, voice going obnoxiously high, "_Ow_, motherff-!"

"He needs to get an x-ray for that," Santana murmured. "He may have fractured his wrist." When Rachel made to protest, Santana shook her head. "I don't want to make anything worse than it already is."

_That_ Rachel could understand, and when she nodded, Santana turned away, looking in Lauren's direction with an expression of outright distaste on her face.

"If she broke her ass, you should totes bring her to the hospital." Santana shrugged when everyone stared at her, some fighting to hide a smile, others with mouths wide open at her lack of tact. Or perhaps how she was obviously not trying to hide her disdain. "Just sayin'. I ain't touching that shit with a ten foot pole."

"And you'd know all about those, wouldn't you Lopez?" Lauren shot back.

Picking her purse back up, Santana checked to make sure all her things were in there before she made for the stairs. "Bring her to the doctor or call an ambulance, whatever. But you best tell them that they'd need a crane and a truck cuz you've gots a baby whale on your hands."

"Santana." Sam's voice, full of reproach, caused the girl to stop and turn around with a sigh to look at the boy she had once dated, sitting on the floor next to Finn. "Come on."

"If you move, I'm decking your nose," Santana muttered in warning as she plodded over, before glaring at Sam. "Then I'm going to kick _you_ between the legs. This better not take long, I'm supposed to head out with Britt. Fucking cockblocks, all of you."

"Santana," Sam began again, tone soft. "Are you completely sure of what you're doing?"

Wow, was that question as vague as questions could be. "I'm studying my ass off for like a freaking _decade_ to be a doctor, so yes, I do hope I know what I'm doing." Santana replied, scathing yet dry. If she hadn't known Sam for as long as she did, and known how he verbally functioned, she would have taken great insult at that. Even so, she couldn't help but feel the prickling of resentment. Way to undermine her schooling, Sam.

He dropped his head onto his knees and pinched the bridge of his nose as though he didn't like what he was about to say and it instantly made Santana wary.

"No, I meant..." He hesitated, which only caused the girl to stiffen further, "I meant with Brittany."

"Why wouldn't I?" Santana snapped defensively in reflex, folding her arms across her chest.

"How well do you know her, Santana?" Kurt and wandered closer by this point- Everyone had, actually. What _was_ it about these people that made them so fucking nosy?

"She's like, the only one in her whole squad who didn't die," Finn chimed in, eyes wide, "Like, the only one. That's really lucky."

"Or really suspicious, depending on how you look at it," Lauren muttered, "Makes you wonder if she was actually there in the first place."

"Or smart," Santana snapped. "First you say Brittany is to blame for Puck being dead. Now you question whether she was actually there. Make up your fucking mind. So she survived the war- Who the hell are you to begrudge her her _life_?"

Lauren's lip curled as she shakily heaved herself upright, back against the wall. "A friend of one of the fallen. You're a defector and a traitor, Santana Lopez. You've no right to claim Puck as a friend since you've clearly chosen Brittany over him."

...this chick was crazy, and she wasn't even making a smidgen of sense. Santana felt that it was her duty to inform her, and everyone else gathered, of that fact.

"Bitch, you be trippin'. You're making out to be even more insane than usual." Disgusted, she backed away. "Screw this. Screw you all. I'm gone."

"Puck is _dead_, Lopez!" Lauren bellowed at her retreating back and once more, Santana froze at the foot of the stairs, her calm being seriously tested. As much as she wanted to screech and have Brittany fly down to her rescue and dump Lauren on her head because that would be_ fucking hot, _watching her girlfriend in action (with the bonus of watching all that blubbery ego go down), she had been dealing with her own demons for the longest time.

Seriously. Lauren Zizes had been a Twilight fanatic. With full on fangs (on the _wrong_ fucking _teeth,_ can she just point out) and glitter. One of those _omigod Edward you're fucking hot I love your insipid treasure trail_ _can I have your babies I'd totally off Bella so I can has you_ sort of fanatic. At least Tina had been a _proper vampire_ (like, Anne Rice kind of vampire, thank you very much) fan.

"I don't know where you've been living all this time, Shit-For-Brains," Santana didn't bother turning around, "But I know that." Her hand curled in on itself against the wall, then she spun back to face everyone. "We _all_ know that. I don't even know why you're _here_ today, since you were just about fucking useless in Glee and you're seriously ruining what's supposed to be a day of me merrily introducing my _girlfriend_ to my _friends_ and if I'd known you were going to be here I would have put in more effort to find a bazooka so that the world could be a happier place for _everyone_."

Her voice hadn't risen to anything above a pleasant murmur, and a fair few of her friends looked taken aback. Lauren just seemed to be gearing up to retort (in a _chargin' up mai laz0rz_ kind of way) and suddenly, Santana felt weary. If she was going to have to talk to all these fools about something that shouldn't even concern them, she was going to do it on her terms.

Rubbing the back of one hand against her eyes tiredly, Santana held up the other in a _shut the fuck up and let me speak_ motion. "I give you all two minutes to say whatever you want about Brittany and me, then I'm gone." When no one made to speak, she glared. "Hurry up; bunch of pansy assed whiners."

That was a weak insult, but it was the best her metaphorical pounding head could come up with.

It took the Gleeks a few seconds to realize that she wasn't just gone before they exploded, talking over each other in order to be heard. Santana half expected them to climb over each other's heads. So High School all over again.

"It's her fault he's dead!" Lauren, who the hell else? Fucking walking contradiction.

"She likes ducks, Santana! Ducks!" This, surprisingly, from Mercedes. It wasn't malicious or mocking, as far as Santana could tell. It was just... Curious. Perhaps a little amused. "You don't do _ducks_, girl. What happened to you?"

"How did you two meet?" Kurt asked in accompaniment. She was surprised, really, that he wasn't sprouting anything critical. But then again, he had always been somewhat of a romantic. Or a gossip; whichever you preferred.

"If it weren't for her Noah would be alive!" Artie, it seemed, had jumped onto the Lauren train, and that visual made her _cringe_.

"_Artie!_" Tina smacked the back of his head and he stared up at her, a kicked puppy look on his face. Santana had never liked those bambi eyes- Whenever little animals gave her that look, she wanted to shove them away. Far, far away. Whenever _people_ gave that face, she wanted to shove them into blenders.

"I like Brittany," Mike gave a crooked smile, which Santana returned. Mike really was a good guy. Finn nodded along, but his words were drowned out by a voice pitched much lower and _louder_ than his.

"Fucking up everything for a summer's worth of rolling in the hay?" Lauren again. Why, God, why. She sounded like a bull, no joke.

Sam rolled his eyes in Lauren's direction, running one hand through mussed blonde hair.

"Summer doesn't last forever." The last one, surprisingly, was from Quinn, said after everyone had stopped talking. She had uttered it quietly, but in the sudden silence her voice rang out clearly.

When Lauren made to speak again, Santana held up her hand palm out, before twisting it into a middle fingered salute. The bulging of the other woman's eyes had Santana's lips curving into a smile that held no humour whatsoever.

"Quinn's right. You've got perhaps a month left before you return to San Francisco, Santana." For Rachel, she was oddly subdued and soft spoken. "What are you going to do then?" When the Latina raised one eyebrow, surprised that she wasn't echoing what Lauren was pounding on, Rachel lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

"I am a romantic, quite obviously," She told her dryly, "I saw you interact with Brittany. Oddly, you two seem to work, somehow. Though I admit that I am wary of her...circumstance, I approve."

Santana blew out a breath. "Okay. Okay." Pointing at Lauren when the woman twitched, she spat, "No. You don't get to talk. It's my turn." A little childish, perhaps, but she was just so _tired_ of her goddamn honking. "You don't get to talk to me about Puck- Actually, you don't get to talk to me at all. So make up your goddamn mind on what you think Brittany's _crimes_ are, then keep it the fuck to yourself. Sharing_ isn't_ caring and if you speak again, I will personally find a hammer for your teeth and a way to drop an _anvil _on your head even though that's not how we do it in Lima Heights!" The last came out as a mocking snarl, before she cracked her neck from side to side, preparing herself to take on the rest of the gleeks.

"She doesn't _just_ like ducks- Brittany likes every little fuzzy animal. _You_ decided to ask her about her eating habits and she said she tries not to eat birds because they're cute; especially ducklings. And what's wrong with ducks? Have you seen those little fuckers? They're _adorable_. Maybe I could like ducks with the right person, ever thought of that?" She snipped at Mercedes, but her tone was considerably less hostile than it had been just moments before.

"Long story, Kurt. I'll tell you it sometime, when the pregnant mammoth isn't present to give her highly irrelevant and unwanted opinion.

"Artie, what I said before to Ursula applies to you. Shut up and get lost. Don't even lie- You wanted in those fitted pants but, sad for you, them gorgeous legs have been around _my_ waist. If I were Tina I would have taken six inch heels to your crown jewels instead but hey." She gave said girl a wry smile which she returned widely. There was no love lost between the ex-couple and Santana thought Tina smart for just cutting her losses.

"Before you freaking _texted_ me to come down here and play _doctor_," She finally addressed Quinn and, to an extent, Rachel, "I was _just about_ to talk to her about that. Thanks _ever so much_ for interrupting, by the way. Speaking of, I've been here for half an hour tending to all you morons and that's half an hour too long.

"I'm going to go now and continue my conversation with my super hot girlfriend. For the record? Who I date isn't any of your business. Remove your big noses before I punch them. Later, losers."

It was a good place to leave off, Santana smirked a little to herself, except that Brittany wasn't anywhere. That smug feeling disappeared as she searched all around Rachel Berry's house, only to come up empty handed. To top that all off, Quinn was waiting by the door when she emerged from a bedroom, utterly frustrated.

In answer to Santana's questioning look of exasperation, Quinn gave a small, tense smile. "I haven't seen you in ages," Was her simple answer, "And I want to get to know your new beau."

"Okay first off, who even says _beau_ anymore?" Santana's grin was contagious, as proved by Quinn's muffled laugh. Then she sobered. "I seem to have lost her."

Quinn was rightly confused. "You what?"

"Misplaced her or something, I don't know!" Santana replied, frustration back in full force. "She was supposed to wait for me here and we were going to get a burger-" Quinn's nose wrinkled because she knew what _that_ meant, "- but now she's gone and I don't know where she went to why would she leave?"

She was startled when Quinn's fingers closed around her arm and she was towed out of the house. "Inhale, Lopez." The blonde's voice tickled her ear, and Santana obeyed, taking in a large lungful of air. "And exhale before you die."

"Fuck you," Santana muttered, but did as she said.

"Text her and ask where she is."

...well _that_ was a capital idea. Santana could have introduced her palm to her face for not thinking of it herself.

}{}{}{

"She's not answering."

Quinn's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "I gathered that."

Santana was nothing if not persistent and single minded. "Why would she not answer any of my calls or texts?"

"About that, you should probably cease and desist or a bit. All that smothering might scare her off." She flinched and pressed herself to her door when Santana's fist slugged her hard in the shoulder. "_Ow_! What was that for?"

"Har fucking _har_," Santana deadpanned, "You're not funny at all."

"Who said I was trying to be funny?" Quinn retorted, rubbing the spot Santana had punched. "Abusive bitch," She grumbled.

"Shut up, Tubbers."

}{}{}{

"Britt? Where are you? ...god, if you don't know how to check your voicemails I am going to feel so fucking stupid. Just, answer your phone or reply my texts, okay? Please?"

Snapping her phone shut, Santana slumped in her seat and sighed, rubbing at her eyes. Quinn eyed her from the driver's side of the car, fingers tapping out a beat on the wheel. She'd driven them down the lane and parked out on the side of the road, the both of them waiting for Brittany to return any of Santana's (many) texts, calls or voicemails.

"...she's made you pathetic, you know that?" When Santana glared, raising her fist again, Quinn held up both hands defensively. "I'm just saying. This girl totally made you soft. It isn't a bad thing."

"Yeah well," Santana muttered, lowering her hand, "She's awesome and I really like her."

"I gathered that too, since some _bitch_ practically _ignored_ me for a whole _month_ to gallivant off with a girl." Ignoring the fact that Santana might cause her great bodily harm, Quinn reached over and smacked the brunette upside the head.

"Fucking _ow_, what the fuck?"

"_That's_ for ignoring me the whole summer," Quinn answered primly, leaning back and folding her hands on her lap.

"Well, _sorry_ that my life doesn't revolve around you, your Highness," Santana replied a little petulantly, though she could admit that she felt a little guilty about that.

"Yeah, yeah. You find someone new and drop all your old friends just like that, Lopez?" Quinn's voice was light, but Santana could guess that there was underlying hurt in there somewhere. When she tried to open her mouth to apologize, the blonde waved it off. "Whatever, save it. So, where would this girl of yours go? Can't be far; this is _Lima_."

Santana reached over and squeezed Quinn's bicep anyway, staying silent for a few seconds. Quinn put her hand on top of Santana's, running her thumb over tanned knuckles, before removing Santana's hand and dropping it back into her lap. Santana grinned. "I don't know. We could check my place first- Then Destiny Inn. Britt has a room there."

"Sure, make me the designated chauffer," Quinn huffed, starting the engine. "Of all times to go green and walk places." A pause. "How're you going back to San Fran? Plane again?"

Santana was quiet for a while before she answered. "I was thinking of driving. It's a pain in my ass, not having a car around." She swallowed, and her voice lowered. "Thought of asking Britt to join me. It could be fun." She sensed, rather than saw, Quinn giving her a sideways glance, but the other woman made no comment. For which she was grateful.

}{}{}{

"I admire what she did. She and Puck," Quinn suddenly said.

"Huh?" Pausing mid-text, Santana squinted at her friend, catching hazel eyes rolling.

"Going to war," She clarified, fiddling with her fingers. "It was brave."

"Britt thinks it was a stupid idea." Sending the message, Santana dropped her phone on the dashboard with a sigh.

"You two... You two talk about it, then?" Santana glanced over at Quinn, brows furrowing at the sound of her all...hoarse and strangled.

"Not really," She began slowly, "I mean, yeah, once in a while she's all zen and doesn't mind talking. She doesn't talk about Noah, though. Not a lot. Britt sometimes gets like, these really violent dreams when she's sleeping. It's a little scary. Sometimes, like when I just get out of the shower or something, I hear her talking to herself.

"It's worrying, but I want to, I dunno, let her go by her own pace. I figure it's all the trauma from the war, you know? I don't want to push her but sometimes I just get so curious and I ask and she gives me these looks, like she's scared of me or something. I don't like that," She admitted, "So I thought if I stopped asking, she'd start telling me."

"And does she? Tell you more when you don't ask, I mean." Quinn was hesitant, unsure.

"Well, yeah. But there's still so much I can sense that she's not telling me, and it gets frustrating. But I really like this girl. Like, really. But it's only been a month, so I don't know."

Quinn patted her shoulder. "Like you said, it's only been a month. You'll figure it out."

Staring moodily at her silent phone, Santana shrugged. "I hope so."

}{}{}{

"Where else could she be?"

Santana was frustrated, and it was beginning to take its effect on Quinn. "I don't know!"

"She's your _girl_, Santana! _Think_!"

Chewing on her lip, Santana scrunched her eyes shut and leaned against the car. Brittany wasn't at the inn or at Santana's house, nor was she at the playground or the numerous parks. There was an off chance that she was in a place Santana would overlook, like a grocery store, but the last _big_-ish place that Brittany could be at that Santana could think of was the cemetery. And Quinn was _not_ going to like that. At all.

"Puck's grave." Miserable, Santana kicked the sole of her shoes against the ground. "I'm sorry, Q. If you don't wanna go I can walk there and text you later."

Quinn's answer took a while in coming, but when it did, it was clipped and noticeably strained. "Don't be stupid. Get in."

"Are y-"

"_Get in."_

And when Quinn channelled her old hormonal, pregnant self, Santana knew better than to weakly argue. Besides, driving would be so much faster than her jogging and this way, she didn't turn up all sweaty and smelly and all around unglamorous.

Though Quinn was a _bitch_ and left the air conditioning off, rolling down her windows instead. Santana felt sticky and gross, and not in a good way either. But letting Quinn drive was a more efficient way getting to places, so she didn't complain. Much.

It just proved her point when Quinn parked barely five minutes later and to her relief, even from all the way over here, she could see someone with gold hair sitting where Noah Puckerman's grave was.

Santana was out the door and five steps in before she realized that Quinn wasn't right behind her. Turning, she saw that Quinn was still in the car, staring ahead while gripping on to her steering wheel. Torn, she briefly weighed the pros and cons of leaving Quinn there to go to Brittany, but immediately chastised herself. Quinn was her _best friend_, for goodness sake. And Brittany was...

...also important. _Fuck_.

But Quinn had been in her life for longer, so Santana slid back into the passenger's seat and took Quinn's hands in her own, barely wincing when the blonde's nails dug into her palms.

"I haven't been here since the funeral," Quinn mumbled, hazel eyes unseeing. It was _awkward_ because of the centre console and the whole being in a small _car _thing but Santana managed to wrap her arms around Quinn's shoulders and haul her closer in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. She hadn't had much practice with cuddling Quinn ever since high school started.

Silence stretched before Quinn heaved a sigh, twisting her body to look in Santana's direction as she cupped the tanned girl's worried face in one hand in an affectionate gesture. "Let's go get your girl, huh?"

And before Santana could protest, Quinn was out of the car in a flurry of limbs, the door closing and leaving Santana sitting there, dumbly staring at the spot her friend just vacated. Her door was yanked open and she was hauled out without ceremony, Quinn not even looking in her direction. That girl could be so scary sometimes.

"Is that her? Sitting there." Quinn began walking, practically dragging Santana after her. "Kinda surprised that you didn't just take off in a cheesy soul mate slow motion run kind of way," She continued in terse amusement, "Glad to know where I rank."

Santana found herself crashing to a stop as Quinn faced her, death grip on her arm loosening. "Thank you, Santana." She awkwardly caressed Santana's bewildered face between her palms and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. "For so many things." Then she pushed Santana ahead of her with a gruff, "Go get your girl."

Needless to say, Santana was completely confused. She and Quinn had never exactly been all huggy around each other- Not even before high school. They had always been more of _'you displease me, I'm punching your face in'_ kind of friends and honestly, Santana didn't know how to deal with this kind of physical affection from Quinn. Her brain had flashing neon signs screaming for her to _Shut. Down. Everything._, but _Brittany_ was there and this was going to sound so clingy and pathetic since only an hour had passed, but she really missed Brittany okay?

Being all worried hadn't helped matters either.

What if that wasn't Brittany? She was going to be such an _idiot_ if that blonde turned out to be one of Puck's lays, or something. Or if she wasn't even there to see Puck, but some other person.

"Brittany?" She called out, shoulders sagging slightly in relief when the woman stood and looked over.

"Britt?" She ran the last few steps and _barrelled_ into Brittany, hugging her tight. "You okay? I thought we were going to go for food after?" Strong shoulders lifted and dropped in a shrug, and she pulled back to stare into the tall blonde's face. Blue eyes were focused on _Quinn_, which in itself was odd. Then they glazed over slightly, which was _worrying_.

Her own gaze went between Quinn- who looked like she was struggling not to cry- and Brittany. On one hand, she didn't want to let go of her girlfriend. On the other, her _best friend_ looked to be about to spontaneously combust from the effort of not crying. Hullo rock, meet hard place.

"I'm sorry. We can talk later?" Brittany murmured, kissing Santana and tightening her hold on the shorter girl. Santana was almost thankful that Brittany made the decision of who to comfort for her, so she nodded, rearing back and kissing her as hard as she could before breaking away to wrap her arms around Quinn.

"Come on, Q," Santana stroked her hand along Quinn's back, curbing her tongue so she didn't say anything stupid like 'Aw, c'mon. _All this for a boy?'_. She didn't have much of a leg to stand on, since she herself had been unabashedly sobbing over the same boy. If Quinn hadn't even come to the cemetery even once, it was no wonder she was a trainwreck.

And that guilt was back, asking her where the hell she was when Quinn so obviously needed her.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note;; 'ola, everyone! I'm sorry for taking this long; it's been a horrid past couple weeks for me. There were a couple huge assignments due, then there were family issues when a relative passed away some time ago. Just have to say, thank you everyone for reading, and to those who comment, I bequeath upon you many many hearts. Your support means a lot to me.**

**I just got a tumblr- certifiable-insanity (bwaha, look, another weird name!) and I'm also in the process of writing a 5times Brittana fic. Feeling kinda burned out, though.**

**You're all lovely and gorgeous, I hope you had a great weekend!**

* * *

Tapping the pads of her fingers along the bend of Brittany's left elbow, Santana let out a contented hum before lacing their fingers together. Her lips pursed in a fond smile as she stroked the inside of the blonde's wrist with her thumb, her free arm draped lazily under and around a snoozing Brittany's waist.

It wasn't often that she got to be the big spoon, so she took the opportunity to revel in it.

Both of them were curled up on an armchair, Brittany's legs tucked in a corner and her knees leaning against Santana's chest and her body pressed snugly against the Latina's, the other woman's arms the only reason she hadn't toppled off a long time ago. Santana marvelled that such a lanky person could endure such a position for more than an hour now. She herself was in better shape; her legs hung over the side of the armchair, Brittany's arms were linked (very) loosely around her back and her head tucked into the curve under Santana's chin. Once in a while, Santana would dip her head and press her cheek against Brittany's forehead, blowing a little whimsically at the wisps of blonde hair that had settled over eyelids hiding bright blue eyes.

Scattered throughout the room, most of the ex-New Directions kids were either crashed motionlessly facedown on the floor or staring intently at the flickering screen of the television in Kurt's and Finn's place, the latter of whom now sported a highly decorated wrist cast. Lauren was noticeably absent, as were Tina and Sam, who had apologetically taken off sometime after dinner. Artie was still ostentatiously there, a presence that Santana was _loathing_. Did the dude just not know how to get a _hint_?

* * *

_After the three of them- Quinn, Santana, Brittany- had left the graveyard, Quinn had cheered up noticeably and blushed prettily (there aren't many girls who can do that) before apologizing for her 'breakdown'. Then she'd turned all sparkly-eyed towards Santana, and suggested that they go get lunch together so that she could get to know Brittany better. Santana had grinned with relief, snarking that she'd been had and that Quinn was a bitch. The shorter blonde hadn't refuted that, merely pressing a brief, sloppy and loud kiss to Santana's temple before pushing her foot down on the gas pedal._

_Brittany had to award her points, just because. She liked Quinn already._

_The way Santana's face lit up when Quinn turned the car into the car park of Breadstix was endearingly child-like, and was quickly growing to be one of Brittany's favourite Santana-expressions. From the backseat, Brittany watched as her girlfriend prepared to bolt from the vehicle and zoom into the restaurant, knuckles tightening against the restricting seatbelt. She could even hear the mental countdown. Before she could dash out of the car though, Quinn laid a hand on her shoulder and muttered a barely audible _"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry it's not my fault I swear_." before she got out and scuttled away, leaving Santana still seated, completely confused. _

_With a small smile and a flourish, Brittany opened all the doors for Santana and pulled out a seat for her, surreptitiously slipping into the chair between Santana and Kurt, right across from Artie. At the other end of the table, Quinn cowered into Mike's side, avoiding Santana's glare. Finn, Rachel, Lauren, Sam were absent- Kurt had leaned over and muttered that the four had gone to the hospital, and three of them would try to make it in time for whatever they wanted to do next, which they were (generously) leaving up to Santana and Brittany to decide. He then carried on, in a louder tone, that they had tried to get Artie to shove off but the wheelchair-bound man was just too obstinate. _

_Brittany didn't understand what that meant, so she gave Artie a small, reassuring smile. She wasn't aware, after all, that he had said anything against her._

_But Santana caught Artie looking all moon-eyed at Brittany and her leg instinctively shot out, thumping Artie hard on the shin. Then, she was forced to endure his smirk as it dawned upon the both of them that he hadn't been able to feel it. _

_However, he wasn't smirking when Brittany slipped her arm around Santana's waist and rubbed her thigh soothingly, pressing a kiss onto the corner of the brunette's mouth._

_Santana hadn't been able to help taking a triumphant bite of a breadstick, grinning all the while._

_The rest of them could only hide their smiles. _

Children.

_}{}{}{_

_Dinner carried on in that fashion, with Artie glowering at the two girls and Santana silently gloating while Brittany ignored the both of them, instead engaging in conversation with Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, Mike and Quinn. The Gleeks politely kept away from all mention of Puck, the military, and Brittany's past, instead choosing to focus on the present and future._

_When Brittany mentioned all of what she and Santana had done over the past few weeks, Kurt hadn't been able to keep himself from chortling, leaning over and poking at a blushing Santana when an oblivious Brittany mused that "Pirate ships are good for making out on". Mike had guffawed, holding out his palm towards the ex-soldier for a high five, while Quinn laughed and called Santana a bitch for not inviting them along._

"_Brittany," Santana murmured with an indulgent smile, "Britt, you're totally ruining my rep here."_

_Said blonde stared solemnly at her girlfriend for several long moments before she turned back to the table of people and announced blandly, "Santana also got us kicked out of a bar and arrested."_

_The Latina slumped back in her chair, eyebrows raised and a cocky grin on her face. "All I gotta say is, next time I tell an ugly freak to back off my girl, they better scatter." She bared her teeth in a feral growl, mostly aimed at Artie. The boy looked considerably cowed._

"_We didn't get thrown in jail, though," Brittany continued with a little smile, "The cop said we were very pretty and let us go with a warning."_

"_Bouncer," Santana corrected, "The cop took the ugly freak."_

"_Bouncer, then," Brittany acquiesced easily. She and Santana exchanged grins and a few kisses, causing Kurt to flail his hands about and squawk indignantly about how he "didn't need to see that"._

_Tina shrugged and remarked that it was hot, Mike chiming in his agreement, leaving Mercedes, Kurt and Quinn to struggle with their want to smack the other two upside the head or just cover their eyes._

_Santana gave them all the finger._

_}{}{}{_

_After the dinner (Santana had packed away as many breadsticks as she could, going as far as to stuff a few into Brittany's pockets), Mike suggested that he and Brittany along with their girlfriends go face to face in a basketball match, and Kurt offered his parents' place as Finn had put a hoop up years before._

_Excited, Brittany agreed. Tina drove the two back to Santana's place to pick up a spare change of clothes, dropping them off at Kurt's before she had to leave, promising to meet up with Brittany again sometime._

"_Soon," She'd told Brittany with a smile, exchanging a fistbump with Santana before she left._

"_I like her," Brittany informed her girlfriend before her gaze raked over Santana's torso and she reached out, "But I like you in my hoodie more." Twirling the string around her finger, she smirked glibly even as she snuck a wandering hand under the large sweater. "I'd prefer it off, though."_

_Fingers circling around Brittany's slender wrists, Santana shook her head. "Later," She promised, "After you've won the game."_

_Brittany was delighted that Santana believed in her so, but she couldn't deny that Mike was a freaking _ninja_. Even after Sam joined her team, the Asian boy managed to hold his own alone- Quinn had long since moved off to the side along with Santana, the both of them unashamedly ogling their respective partners. Finn had joined in, expertly keeping his injured wrist out of the way behind his back. Graceful dancer he might not be, he was still pretty good on the court._

"_I think it's easy to determine that Mike has all of them beat," Kurt remarked idly from where he was sitting._

"_He is rather superb in basketball," Rachel agreed._

"_Oh honey, I think he means in terms of abs," Mercedes laughed, doing her little handshake with Kurt when the man smiled wider._

_The players on the court had long since removed their shirts, Brittany included, though she obviously left her sports bra on. Once, when they caught the rest _appreciating_ their half bare bodies, they had paused the game and struck a pose, showing their forms off to the best of their abilities. Mike did a one hand stand, grinning cheerfully at his girlfriend while Finn, as Kurt remarked, "stood like a power ranger". Sam went into the traditional muscleman pose, showing off his biceps, and Brittany flexed her arms, smirking and winking at Santana- Only at Santana._

"_Hey, Lopez," Quinn nudged her friend when the game had been restarted, "Stop drooling. You're getting it all over the ground."_

_The rest of them laughed. "Damn girl, she's gone."_

_Waving her hand in their faces, Santana merely proclaimed, "I regret nothing."_

_}{}{}{_

_Mike had unanimously been declared the winner. Finn clapped him on the back and joked that he was the winner at _life_. Sam grinned, informing the Asian boy that he had well and truly earned his _cake_, with a sideways glance at an oblivious Quinn. He got whacked over the head for that._

_Everyone then split up to take a shower. Or, well, that had been the initial plan. Mike and Quinn snuck off together; Finn and Rachel disappeared into the former's room, and Brittany and Santana both entered Kurt's bathroom before closing the door on his appalled face, drowning out his demands that they not do anything horrid on his counter._

_If anything, his shouting only made Santana more eager, a fact that she enthusiastically informed him of after they emerged. Brittany was apologetic, made even more so when the already pale boy went paler. She tried to reassure him that they only did it in the shower so he didn't have to worry about cleaning the counter, but didn't seem to help at all. She could only express her apologies as a smirking Santana dragged her away from the apoplectic boy._

_Santana's good mood didn't last, though. They were apparently the first ones out of the shower ("Well goddamnit, that was a waste.") and they'd decided to regroup in the living room, where Artie sat alone, channel surfing. Santana hadn't missed him staring at _her_ girlfriend during the game, but hadn't wanted to cause a scene._

"_Eyes to yourself, asshat," Santana snapped, dragging Brittany closer possessively. The blonde squeezed the shorter girl's arm gently, towing them both towards the furthest chair from Artie. To ensure that Santana wouldn't be able to jump off and lunge at the man, Brittany made sure to drape herself over her girlfriend's thighs, arms looping around her neck and pulling her head down._

"_Don't be mad," She whispered against Santana's lips, "He just wishes he's as hot as us."_

_Santana chuckled, perfectly content to just sit there and make out with her super, _super _hot girlfriend._

* * *

It hadn't taken long for Brittany to fall asleep in that position- They'd settled on a movie (_Fast and Furious)_ and passed around bowls of popcorn and chips, and Santana munched away happily at her smuggled breadsticks while the blonde dozed lightly. And she wasn't the only one.

Mike and Quinn were curled up on one end of the couch, the Asian Ninja just on the verge of nodding off. Rachel had long since passed out, snuggled into Finn's side, the tall man leaning his cheek on the top of her head. If it weren't so barfworthy, Santana would have- Well, no. She still would have thrown up at the sappiness of it all.

Twisting her wrist so that she could sneak a glance at Brittany's watch, Santana pressed a series of kisses along the blonde's ear and jaw line, effectively causing her to stir. "Hey, babe."

Letting out a soft sigh, Brittany turned and nuzzled her face into Santana's neck, making a muffled questioning noise.

"You wanna head back? A bed would be way more comfortable, and we can take a walk back to my place and crash there tonight."

"Mmm, walk sounds nice," The blonde murmured, yawning and glancing at her watch- Just a little over ten. It was surprising, being tired this early. She and Santana had taken to staying up till about midnight every night, but maybe it had to do with all the emotions, and a basketball game on top of that.

After bidding everyone goodbye and goodnight, Santana and Brittany found themselves out on the sidewalk, the former snuggled into the taller woman's side. For a summer's night, it was unexpectedly chilly, so Brittany once again offered her hoodie to Santana. She had to admit, she really liked seeing the Latina in her clothes.

They walked in companionable silence back to Santana's place, Brittany jokingly offering to help her girlfriend break into her own house via window so as not to wake her parents up. The brunette scoffed, informing the other woman that she had locked her window before they left, thank you very much.

"Doesn't mean I still can't break in through the window," Brittany retorted.

"Ah, see, but then you'd be _breaking and entering_, and why bother when I've got a loverly bunch of keys that I may use to show you the world?" Santana countered.

That gave Brittany pause. "Was that a Disney reference?" She finally asked, blue eyes amused.

"...maybe." Without giving Brittany another glance, Santana breezed through the door and down to her bedroom, kicking her shoes off in the general direction of her closet. Brittany followed after throwing the deadbolt on the front door, stepping into Santana's room before gently closing the door and locking it.

"I haven't watched Disney in years," Brittany continued as though their conversation hadn't been interrupted, "I remember really liking the prince in the one where there's a dragon who blew green fire." When Santana tilted her head to the side and gave her a questioning look, Brittany explained, "The prince could dance. He's my favourite."

"I think all of them could dance, Britt," Santana responded with a chuckle, changing into a loose shirt and shorts and tossing a change of clothes to the blonde, "It's like, a requirement for all princes and princesses that they know how to dance."

"Really?" Brittany pondered this new scrap of information while she changed and folded her discarded clothes before crawling into bed next to Santana, settling with her head pillowed on the smaller girl's stomach. They were silent for a while, Santana flipping through channels on the television idly before Brittany asked, voice soft, "Am I your prince?"

Baffled, Santana pondered upon that for a while.

"Yeah, I guess so," She finally replied, running her fingers through blonde locks, "I mean, you give me your jacket and your arm and open doors for me. And, you look smoking hot.

"You make an awesome prince," She concluded with a smile, leaning down to press her lips against Brittany's.

Hand snaking up to cradle a tanned cheek, Brittany rose to one elbow, following Santana up and never breaking their kiss even when Santana made to pull away. Her free hand sneaked under Santana's shirt to rest warmly on the small of Santana's back when she shifted to straddle Santana's thighs. The feeling of Santana's arms encircling her waist caused her to break the kiss, leaning her forehead onto Santana's as they breathed.

"What happened today?" Santana asked quietly, her thumbs stroking along Brittany's sides soothingly.

Brittany stayed silent for a while, before admitting, "I heard them. They blame me." Seeing Santana's expression, she corrected, "Some of them. I felt sad and I didn't know where to go, then I got angry and threw my phone and it broke."

Apologetic, Santana buried her face in the curve of Brittany's neck. "They're assholes, all of them," She murmured. "I'm sorry you heard that."

"You're not mad I left?" Brittany pulled back slightly, blue gaze hopeful.

"Well, I was _worried_," Santana nudged Brittany's nose with her own, "But no, not mad."

"I'm sorry," Brittany breathed, hugging Santana's neck tightly, "I never want to leave you."

Seeing an opening, Santana took her chance.

"What do you think of driving back to San Fran? With me? Like a road trip. With me. Would you? With me?" She asked, wincing slightly and pressing her face into soft blonde hair. No. Game. She had no game, not anymore. "I mean, we don't have to, I just thought it'd be fun and we can see all the sights and I really missed my jeep and-"

She was surprised when firm hands palmed her cheeks and a soft kiss was placed on her lips, cutting her ramble off.

"I'd love to." Sucking in a sharp breath of air, Brittany admitted, "I'd do anything you want to do. You are my life now; I love you and you mean everything to me."

Being told that she was someone's _everything_ was a little weird and somewhat startling, but Santana hugged Brittany closer and nuzzled into her. "You mean a lot to me, too." For a while they just sat there, Brittany in Santana's lap and long legs hooked behind Santana's back, both lost in their own thoughts.

"This is probably going to be the dealbreaker," Brittany finally broke the silence, "But you should know this about me before we go anywhere together, because it makes me a bad prince."

"...what is it?" Santana asked, apprehensive. Brittany's tone was so serious, her normally dreamy gaze focused and unnerving.

"I can't dance."

Santana could only laugh in relief.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed. xx**

******ps. if you can pick up my nerdy references, power to you, you get all the cookies.**  



	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note;; Man, it's been nearly three months. I offer my most heartfelt apologies- As I said over tumblr and a few messages, I'd been in a horrible writer's block when it came to this story. I had stalled at 1000 words and couldn't seem to put my thoughts on how I wanted the chapter to go down on paper so finally I did an overhaul and went in a different direction than I had initially planned. And, well, I managed to kick out a chapter.**

**Thank you for your patience, everyone, and I certainly will endeavour to never take quite as long with a primary fic again. Just another chapter or two with this one (if you want anything in this fic covered, now would be the time to say so and I will do my best to include it in the remaining chapters), then we'll be done!**

**Hope my writing isn't too rusty and you enjoy the chapter. As always, thank you for reading and do tell me what you think! xx**

* * *

The first time Brittany did it, Santana was _floored._ Sure, Brittany had told Santana of that particular skill just last night, she just...hadn't really believed it.

Her girlfriend noticed her just _there_, with her mouth hanging open, looking for all in the world like she was going to pass out. And Brittany, being Brittany, got worried.

"Are you okay?" She asked, bounding over as quick as she possibly could and wrapping her arms around Santana's waist in case she _did_ get it in her mind to faint. "You're doing that mouth thing that fish do when they're sucking up other fish." One hand reaches up to feel Santana's forehead, and the touch of her slightly dusty palm must have snapped Santana out of whatever daze she was in.

"Am I okay?" Santana parroted, "Am I _okay_?" Arms flapping a little, she clutched at the front of Brittany's shirt with one hand and gestured to the badly vandalized wall with the other. "What was that? _What was that?_"

Tilting her head to the side, Brittany stared down at the girl in her arms, a puzzled look on her face. "What was what?"

Stopping to take a deep breath, Santana managed to pull up her rather impressive mental dictionary long enough to breathe, "Do it again?", while gesturing to the building.

Blue eyes crinkled at the corners as Brittany untangled herself from Santana, pulling shyly at the hem of her shirt before dropping a gentle kiss on her girl's full lips. "How about," She began, a mischievous smile twisting her lips, "I race you instead?"

Santana blinked once, then grinned. "You're on. I'll meet you at the next corner, in front of the florist. Loser _cooks_ dinner."

Brittany seemed to think it over for a second, before nodding curtly and dashing off with a swift "You're on!". Then, all Santana could do was watch as her very blonde, very blue eyed ex-soldier of a girlfriend sprung onto a trashcan and scrambled (a little clumsily) onto the roof of the building and disappeared from sight. Only then did she start off at a dead run, determined to beat Brittany to the finish so as to witness her dismount from the roofs of Lima.

As she rounded the corner, however, she was just in time to see Brittany leaping off the low roof, just barely clearing the awning and tumbling onto the ground, executing some kind of freaky ninja move that probably prevented her from breaking all her bones. For a moment, Santana felt worry rush through her, and she hurried towards her girlfriend, dropping to her knees beside the blonde.

"Britt?" The girl was just sitting there, swaying ever so slightly. More than a little nervous now, Santana rubbed the heel of her palm up and down Brittany's arm, trying to get her attention. "You okay?"

Twinkling blue eyes were directed up in her general vicinity, though Santana could see that they were a little glazed over. "S'cool, right?" Brittany asked, raising a shaky hand. "I told you I used to do it. Just... Not for a long time. I'm outta practice."

Santana grinned, hugging Brittany close. "It's very cool," She told the other woman fondly, "I'm totally dating Spiderman."

"Spiderman's a wuss," Brittany waved off the compliment blithely, "He totally doesn't deserve the girl. I should be like Batman. He has an awesome theme song." She smirked. "Nanananananana-" She got cut off when Santana slapped a hand over her mouth.

"No, I do not think that was Batman's theme song. You nerd."

"I'm your nerd though, right? I should totally live in your basement and eat all your pizzas!" Brittany babbled, looking rather excited at the prospect. Santana could only laugh and press a kiss to the corner of Brittany's mouth.

"There are so many more appealing things than _pizzas_ that you could be eating." Salaciously, the darker woman waggled her eyebrows.

Brittany blinked, before a slow smile spread across her face. "I could do that," She agreed. "You taste better than pizza, anyway." Then she scrunched her brows together. "I think. Except for Hawaiian. I totally want a Hawaiian pizza now. Oh! Ohh! So I know we didn't try the ice cream thing, but do you think I could put hot cheese on you instead? And maybe pineapples. My cat used to eat cheese. I bet he'd love eating cheese off your-"

Laughing, Santana covered Brittany's mouth yet again. "I love you, Britt," She chuckled, "But no to hot cheese or cats. Or pineapples. There are some things I wouldn't do for love."

The haze was instantly gone, clearing out of Brittany's mind so fast that she was left reeling. "Say it again." It came out as a soft demand, elation held back just in case it had been a slip of the tongue on Santana's part.

Santana smiled at her then, and placed a cool palm on Brittany's cheek, clearing away some of the blonde woman's trepidation. "I do." Her lips twitched and she leaned forward, ignoring the fact that they were in public in favour of resting her forehead against her girlfriend's. Their noses rubbed gently in an Eskimo kiss before Santana breathed, "I love you, Brittany."

Holding back a squeal, Brittany threw her arms around Santana and hauled her closer, kissing her until Santana thumped her back in an effort to get away when the lack of oxygen became a very serious problem.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Brittany punctuated each statement with a kiss to her girl's cheeks, then finally her lips. She had been waiting for Santana to return her sentiments for a whole _two weeks_- With each twenty-four hours that passed, and each declaration of love she had sent Santana's way, the ex-soldier had grown more and more despondent. She didn't care much for labels and the like, but when Santana had merely smiled back as a reply, it had hurt.

Time had been needed, of course, since matters of the heart _theoretically_ and _logically_ wouldn't take place in a month and a half no matter what fairy tales and epic love stories said, but she had honestly thought that they were on the same page regarding their feelings for each other.

That first time she had admitted to Santana that she loved her had been the biggest blow of all.

* * *

"I'd do anything you want to do. You are my life now; I love you and you mean everything to me."

_...crap. She hadn't meant to blurt it out in such an unromantic way- She'd wanted to at least have flowers in hand, or a sleepily smug, satisfied grin on her face when she first told Santana she loved her. Something more...cliché, since clichés were clichés for a reason. She definitely hadn't wanted to just slip it into everyday conversation (okay, so this was kind of a big life decision, but still) where it could be easily overlooked. It was just, Santana had been so adorable and awkward about such a simple issue, and all Brittany wanted to do was cuddle her close and press kisses all over her face. And perhaps pinch her cheek. _

_But she sensed that that wasn't the right thing to do, so Brittany held her tongue, waiting to see if Santana had picked up on her blunder. It wouldn't be too big of a deal if she did or didn't, Brittany decided, since she could always say it again- This time with more grandeur. But a little part of her niggled with the same uncertainty that plagued her whenever she thought of her feelings for the Latina girl. Wasn't this too much, too fast?_

_When the silence stretched on and on, Santana staying completely still in what seemed like contemplation, Brittany wracked her brains and blurted out the first thing that came to mind: _"This is probably going to be the deal breaker_," She started slowly, fumbling around mentally for something- anything!- that would sound plausible,_ "But you should know this about me before we go anywheretogether, because it makes me a bad prince."

_She couldn't think of anything, because she didn't want Santana to nod seriously and agree and subsequently break up with her for it, so she went for what they had been discussing before. When in doubt, throw out a Disney reference._

"I can't dance," _Was her not-at-all-thought-out reply to Santana's inquiry. However, since they'd been talking about princes and dancing, that was the logical statement to make. Sure, she could do some pretty cool things, but she was pretty sure that her ability to stand on her head and spin was not of the same level as... What was it that Kings and Queens did,_ Ballroom dancing? _Brittany could do some snazzy legwork and walk on her hands (cart wheeling had been beyond her because she kept falling on her ass), but proper dances like the Waltz and Tango were beyond her._

_Maybe. She just never got the chance to learn._

_Perhaps Santana would be willing to learn with her? Brittany could almost imagine it- The two of them on a dance floor, her girlfriend's hips twitching to a sensual rhythm under her hand. Then they could practice together in private, and they could try out some naked dancing. She had no doubts that Santana would be a marvellous dancer- Or perhaps she wasn't so much as imagining Santana_ dancing, _but what she would be wearing? Man, she was _such _a perv._

_Her rambling thoughts were suddenly cut off when nails ran down her side teasingly. Propping her elbows on either side of Santana's head, Brittany grinned down at her, jerking a little when the ticklish sensation continued a couple more times._

"_Hey," Santana mock-pouted, bottom lip jutting out cutely, "Where'd your thoughts go?"_

"_Dancing," Came the honest reply, before Brittany ducked her head a little to hide her smile. "I think you'd be amazing, and I wanna see you dance."_

_Upon seeing Brittany's cheeks flush, Santana smirked, rubbing small, idle circles in the small of her girlfriend's back, her fingers slipping gradually lower and lower. "Oh yeah?"_

"_Yes. You'd be super hot." With every inch lower Santana's fingers progressed, Brittany's smile grew wider. "What are _you _thinking?"_

_Stilling her movements, Santana pulled her hands away and instead wove her fingers into soft blonde hair, palms caressing Brittany's cheeks gently. "Of many things," She admitted, before the corners of her lips turned up in a lopsided grin. "Of shoes and ships and sealing wax- of cabbages and Kings. And why the sea is boiling hot-"_

"_-and whether pigs have wings." With a delighted smile, Brittany finished it up. A few days ago, she and Santana had lain together on the bed, reading through Alice in Wonderland. She'd seen her girlfriend's copy sitting on her bookshelf, and idly mentioned that she'd never read it before. Santana had proceeded to splutter incoherently about blasphemies, end of worlds, and cosmos exploding- Thereby reinforcing the notion that Santana was just a humongous nerd. "Dork."_

"_Your dork," Santana smirked back up at her."A dork you _adore_."_

"_A dork I _love_," Brittany corrected, unwaveringly staring at her girlfriend. She had never been the best at keeping her emotions hidden; this time was no different. There was a very high chance that it would make Santana bolt, what with all the _feelings_ that were being tossed around right now, but Brittany was confident that they were at the same level when it came to their feelings. Indeed, she thought that it was highly likely that Santana loved her back. Her reply of _"You mean a lot to me, too" was a sure sign of it.

"_I love you," She reiterated, "You mean _everything_ to me."_

_Then, lips quirking slightly in a hesitant smile, she waited in a tense silence, ears straining and heart thudding out an erratic beat against her chest._

_Again the silence stretched out between them. With each second that passed, Brittany's fire of anticipation and confidence spluttered out just a little- Was she completely wrong in her reading of Santana's emotions?_

"_Thank you," Santana finally replied, a strained smile (if it could be even called that) pulling at one corner of her mouth._

_The fire died then, and Brittany could feel the faint prickling of tears gathering behind her eyelids. When she had been younger, she hadn't really understood nor experienced heartache- She had always assumed that it was like heartburn, which was what her grandfather went through whenever he ate too much fatty meat. Then when her older brother had arrived home in a- Well, that was when she had first felt it. A specific part of her chest had spasmed with enough hurt that she had to slap her hand to the area and press down, struggling to take in a breath._

_That was how she felt now, and it only magnified when Santana looked away, unable to meet her blue gaze._

"_Are you staying tonight?" The question was soft, and Brittany could hear Santana's voice waver ever so slightly. Her initial response of 'yes' was halted as hurt warred with instinct- After all, they hadn't slept in different beds for a couple of weeks now-, and the former clearly won out when she shook her head._

"_No." Her reply lacked all resolve, but Brittany forced herself to untangle her limbs from Santana's and roll the darker-skinned woman off her form gently before proceeding to sit upright on the edge of the bed and quickly pull her blonde hair up in a tight ponytail. She needed some form of control after that, and bundling up her hair was the only thing she could think of doing to keep her hands occupied. "I think I should go."_

_Her smile was strained and tense as she explained, "I have a room that's still being paid for. I should use it once in a while."_

_Sitting up behind Brittany, one hand reaching out and hovering just above the blonde's shoulder uncertainly, Santana asked, "Need a lift?"_

_She shook her head, standing up before Santana could decide to touch her, moving towards the window and throwing it open. "See you tomorrow?"_

_Still situated on her bed, Santana nervously gnawed on her lower lip. "Britt," She called out softly when the blonde was half out of the window,"Stay. Please."_

_Wavering, Brittany hovered half in and half out of Santana's room, before replying, her tone just as soft, "I just need a walk. I'll come back soon." A pause, then: "Promise."_

_She just needed a little time to think._

_Or talk to someone else._

_}{}{}{_

_As soon as she was off the Lopez's lawn, Brittany broke into a speedy jog, heading to the first park she and Santana had ever gone to. She was aware of heavy, familiar footfalls keeping pace with her as she ran, but she stayed silent until she got there._

_Puck didn't speak either, and when they got there he swarmed up the slide after her, sitting as close as he could given the limited space. They stayed quiet, and after a few minutes Brittany sighed and leaned back a little, propping her head on a broad shoulder. Rough, calloused fingers intertwined with her own and he lifted the other arm to wrap around her, pulling Brittany closer in a comforting hug._

"_It's okay to cry, Britt," He told her, his low voice soothing and warm. God, how she had missed him. "If you need to cry, cry. No judgement."_

_Usually, she'd quip about _The_ Puckersaurus being such a sap but honestly, now she wasn't feeling up for any kind of humour. "It's okay," She said dully, not lifting her head up to look at him, "I don't want the earth to be sowed with salt. Nothing would be able to grow then."_

_She could sense Puck looking at her strangely, but she didn't care, choosing instead to murmur, "I was wrong. I shouldn't have said anything."_

_One broad shoulder lifted and fell, causing her head to bob up and down with the motions. "You love her." It sounded more like a question than a statement, so she nodded._

"_So much, but apparently she doesn't love me back." Sucking in a quivering breath, she confessed, "I thought she did. God, I'm so stupid!"_

"_You're not stupid," Puck instantly countered, "San just isn't really the best when it comes to feelings. She gets like, terrified. I think the last time she set out to tell her girlfriend she loved her was back in WMHS. But she got totally shot down and the girl stayed with Wheels." He frowned. "Bitch. Four-Eyes was a total ass about it, too. And I'm not breaking the bro-code because Santana is totally a higher ranking bro."_

"_I guess. Maybe. I don't know. Maybe it's too fast."_

"_It is," Puck agreed, "But maybe yours is one of those epic love stories where everything happens really fast. And this is just before the happily ever after where you two run across a cornfield into each other's arms."_

_..._

_Brittany slowly turned her head to stare at him, and to her immense surprise and delight, he flushed slightly._

"_Quinn really liked all that romantic comedy bullshit, okay," He muttered petulantly. "Anyway, just keep telling her. She definitely really likes you back. San could have been in like, shock or something. She's kind of emotionally stupid when it comes to anything except sex and being threatening."_

"_So I should keep saying that I love her?" Brittany clarified. "What if she doesn't ever reply?"_

"_She asked you to go to San Fran with her," He shrugged, "If she didn't love you back at least a little she wouldn't have asked."_

_Brittany sighed. Relationships were so...confusing. Even more so than recipes. "Thanks, Noah."_

_After an hour or so had passed, she slowly made her way back to Santana's house, once again forgoing the door and climbing through the still open window. She really had to talk to Santana about that._

_The other girl was curled up on her chair at the table, hugging a large stuffed cat toy, head tilted at an uncomfortable angle as she slept. Brittany furrowed her brows before manoeuvring her girlfriend back onto the bed without waking her, then climbing in behind her and wrapping an arm around her waist and burying her face in dark hair. _

* * *

She had kept repeating it to Santana once or twice a day- She didn't want to seem like an obsessed stalker-, and though Santana had never again said 'thank you' that awkwardly, she still didn't return the sentiment.

Each time, Brittany would wait, hopefully, before dejectedly changing the subject. The pain that flared in the confines of her chest didn't lessen with each rejection (that was what she was calling it)- Instead, it got worse and worse, and her already flagging confidence got more and more tattered. Brittany tried not to show that it really hurt whenever Santana just gave her a smile in reply, and kept to her usual cheery deposition as much as she could, but sometimes (especially when Santana was distracted), she would lapse into a moody silence.

She'd cried once, after she'd dropped Santana home after a failed date to the Columbus Aquarium- They had shared their first proper date-kiss there, and Brittany had hoped that the magic of the shark tank would encourage Santana to give a proper response. It was three days after Brittany had first told Santana she loved her, but all her girlfriend had done was look away and quietly request that Brittany bring her home.

That night, while she lay on her own bed at the inn, she'd gotten a text message from Santana. They'd gotten her a new phone just the day before and thus it was entirely blank and clean, and the first text to ever grace the contraption was short and utterly heart-wrenching to Brittany.

_I can't._

Later, after she'd calmed down slightly, she sadly wondered if that was an omen of some sort. A new phone, a new beginning- But the beginning of what? The End?

It took a few more days before things stopped being so awkward between them- Before Santana started replying to Brittany's soft _'I love you'_s with a smile. Brittany had been extremely happy at this jump forward, and in the week that followed they started getting back into their old routine of spending all their time together and being completely comfortable.

Her chest still hurt, but she did her best to quash the feeling. After all, a smile was better than what happened before, though it was definitely not what Brittany ultimately wanted. However, she kept Puck's words in the forefront of her mind whenever Santana didn't verbally reply. It was a poor consolation, but consolation nonetheless.

Then, after two long weeks, Santana finally returned her feelings.

No- It was even better, because Brittany hadn't prompted it at all. Santana had said it on her own, and that felt infinitely better than her needing to be cajoled into saying it.

Instead of continuing her spiel of 'I love you's, Brittany hugged Santana tightly, nuzzling into the curve between her neck and shoulder. Santana startled when she felt her shirt growing damp, but when Brittany assured her that they were "Happy tears, I promise", she relaxed slightly, returning the tight embrace.

It may have taken more time and an intense amount of heartaches on Brittany's end, but Santana had finally gotten over whatever it was she was scared of said those three words back, and the feeling that threatened to overwhelm Brittany now was glorious.

This was another milestone passed and conquered and, Brittany optimistically thought, things could only go uphill from then on.


	19. Author's Note

Author's Note;; Hey, everyone. I haven't been around for.. A couple of months, now? And this story has gone without an update for twice that- I'm sorry. I don't really have anything to say except that exams happened, then real life caught up and writer's block hit. Then real life happened again (and is still happening) and I've also been working long days since it's summer. Internet time has been limited. I'm trying to work on an update but I can't seem to manage to write anything worth uploading- Stuck just under a thousand words for months. I know what I want in the chapter and I've got little bits planned, but I just can't seem to words. I'm also pulling out of a big bang I signed up for. And.. I've stopped watching glee. Horror of horrors.

Sorry to everyone- Especially those who keep checking back and asking about updates. I do want to finish this story, and the one I was planning out for the Big Bang (though now I guess it'd just be an ordinary story), and I'll definitely try to get over this block. It just doesn't seem to want to go away. Trying, though!

Um, for this chapter I had planned mostly a Quinntana centric one with...flashback memories? of Brittana moments. There are just _so many potential moments_ haha. If there's any you particularly want to see, say so. Maybe ideas would help me get out of this block a little faster.

Happy Chinese New Year to those who celebrate it!


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